


From the frying pan, into the fire?

by TheBookwormBehindTheGlasses (Mafer_4178)



Series: From the frying pan, into the fire? [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-14 10:16:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 34,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11781069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mafer_4178/pseuds/TheBookwormBehindTheGlasses
Summary: About to lose the second war against Voldemort, Hermione has an hour to go back to the past and prevent Sirius' death by falling through the Veil. But when she returns to her present, she finds everything very, very different...





	1. Prologue: In for a penny, in for a pound

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, everybody! This wonderful story doesn't belong to me, I'm just translating it so more people can enjoy it as much as I did when I first read it. This is the work of LaraG (https://m.fanfiction.net/u/724551/LaraG), anything you wish to tell her directly, feel free to leave a comment on her account. So, with nothing left to say, I'll leave you to your reading...

**Prologue: In for a penny, in for a pound**

Hermione Granger sneaked quietly through one of Hogwarts’ hallways, with her back against the polished stone wall and her wand lifted. Her hair was up in a dishevelled ponytail, and she was wearing a dirty and torn tunic. When she reached an imperceptible wall junction, she whispered the password.

"Christmas Pudding."

Immediately, from between the slabs of stone appeared a stone gargoyle that gave way to a spiral staircase. Hermione jumped nimbly to the first step and the axis of the stairs started moving, taking her to the Hogwarts’ Headmaster’s Office and shutting the stone wall on itself until there was no sign that could suggest there was a secret door there.

Hermione sat down on one of the steps and hugged her knees, resting her forehead on them. When the stairs finished the ascent, she would have stayed there forever if a pair of arms hadn’t brought her to her feet and held her against another body, visibly relieved to see her.

"Hermione! Thank God…"

The girl didn’t return the hug, at first. She pulled apart a little from the other person and looked into their eyes. Those eyes were looking at her interrogatively, but she didn’t want to answer the silent question they were asking. Those were some undoubtedly sad eyes, eyes that had seen many friends die, both in the first and second war. A pair of eyes tired of death and loneliness, but still capable to defiantly stare at any Death Eater.

"Have you found her?" Remus knew beforehand the answer Hermione was going to give him. The girl nodded her head and burst into tears, clinging to the werewolf with the desperation of those who no longer have anything to fight for.

* * *

 

A long time later, Hermione and Lupin rested lying on the carpet in the Headmaster’s Office, one of the few ones that hadn’t burned in the fire caused by the Death Eaters. Part of the school had been consumed by the fire, and others had gone down because of the explosions and spells during battle. But the office that had once belonged to Dumbledore remained there, untouched as if the late Headmaster’s soul watched over his belongings.

Both Aurors laid face up, very close, but not embracing. Lupin had his eyes closed, while Hermione stared unblinkingly at the ceiling as if reliving in her mind the scenes she had just seen.

"Don’t torture yourself more, Hermione… just leave it." begged Remus.

She moved on her side and rose slightly, resting on her elbow to look at him head-on. He stayed where he was, his eyes still closed.

"Tonks was the last one, Remus, only the two of us remain from all the Order’s members… we have to decide what we’re going to do." she told him, with a clear determination in her voice.

Lupin rose and mirrored her posture. The woman in front of him had little to do with the brilliant young lady he had taught in her Third Year; that was a child, still, with her front teeth bigger than normal and her impossible hair, rounded features and a child’s body. But the Hermione that was staring at him was 25, had perfect teeth and pronounced dark circles that framed a pair of brown eyes that exuded pain. She had seen Harry die two years ago, during the last battle against Voldemort. She had fought against him and screamed like a lioness when Bill and Ron held her by the arms and dragged her with them to the Portkey that took them back to Grimmauld Place, while Harry’s dead body laid at the feet of the Dark Lord. Hermione had never forgiven the Weasley brothers for not letting her die there, with him, throwing spells at Voldemort until an Avada Kedavra struck her in the heart. From then on, while those who resisted against the Death Eaters advance fell one after the other, Hermione’s eyes became colder and expressionless, more insensitive to pain.

She saw Ron, Neville and Luna fall all during the same ambush. Mrs Weasley had died at a surprise attack to the Burrow, defending Ginny and Fred, both recovering from the wounds caused by another attack, and who were killed after her. Mr Weasley had lasted almost until the end, but the last attack at Hogwarts had finished him and what was left of the teaching staff: Flitwick and McGonagall. Dumbledore had died long before Harry, and Hagrid, incapable of overcoming the pain of his absence, had practically committed suicide by throwing himself into a solitary attack.

"We have the temporary Time-Turner, Remus. Everything is lost. It’s now or never because, sooner or later, they’ll find us."

The werewolf sat down on the floor, his palms resting on his semi-flexed knees. He sighed deeply and prepared himself to try and convince Hermione to not do that.

A few years ago, a new model of Time-Turner had been created, and Hermione had been part of the team that had designed it. It was far more potent than the traditional one because it allowed going up to several years back and to the place one desired, and it spontaneously returned to the present. The magical energy it consumed was so big that you could only stay a very limited time in the past, for about an hour, before it automatically remitted the user to the day and time of the start point. Hermione had used it once, just once, to prove it. She had gone back to her childhood and seen herself playing at some park, with her mother, when she was six and didn’t know she was a witch yet. The emotional impact had been huge, and when she came back, she found herself in a bed at St Mungo’s. She had been unconscious for days.

Hermione’s plan was to go back to the past and prevent one of the events that might have precipitated the loss of the war, Harry’s death. But Lupin, who dragged with him a heavier load than hers, was panicked that changing the past could modify the future to the worst: as he said, jumping from the frying pan into the fire. The Death Eaters’ cruelty was limitless and, as Lupin said, preventing James and Lily’s death could, for example, set the hopes of the Wizarding World into Neville’s hands as the boy-who-lived and, despite the sincere affection the werewolf had felt towards the boy, he didn’t trust in his power as a wizard. Concentration camps, tortures… everything could change for the worst. But Hermione didn’t think that the reality was susceptible to worsen.

"Hermione… if you go back in time, Harry could die when he was one year old… Is that what you want?"

The witch shuddered. She kneeled next to her former teacher and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Remus… we’re going to die."

The werewolf stared at her, fixedly.

"But we could watch those we love… loved, suffer more…"

She smiled sweetly at him.

"Then, you tell me what I should do. Let’s look for a moment in history we can change, a moment that isn’t so far back that things would change excessively. We have little time, a couple of hours until they find us, maybe. And when they do, they won’t keep us alive for long."

Remus rubbed his eyes. She was right, partly, because they really had little to lose. But… which moment should they choose? What could she do to prevent one of the events that could unleash defeat? She could meet with Harry before the final battle against Voldemort, but nothing would change by being able to talk to him because the last Horcrux was never found. Preventing the death of Ron, the Weasleys, Arthur, Dumbledore… he ran his fingers through his hair, still brown but growing more grey, and shared his doubts with her.

Hermione seemed pensive and frustrated because she too couldn’t think of a way to avoid any of those moments, before she raised her eyebrows, put a hand on her mouth and smiled.

"I got it…" she muttered.

Lupin looked doubtful.

"Listen, Remus, that’s it… we don’t lose anything… How it didn’t occur to me before?" she jumped up and began to walk feverishly through the room, showing signs of such enthusiasm that her partner thought that, after all, she hadn’t been able to avoid the madness. She seemed to be thinking rapidly, as if she was tying up all possible loose ends, and kneeled back next to Lupin, taking one of his hands in hers. She looked at him in the eye, with the feverish expression of an insane person.

"Remus, I’m going to go to Grimmauld Place to warn Sirius not to believe Kreacher. It’s simple: I just have to prevent him to go with you to the Ministry of Magic, make him stay hidden at the house until the Order comes to save us. Remus, it’s about preventing Sirius’ death…"

* * *

 

Crouching beside the chimney of Grimmauld Place, Hermione shrank back on herself to recover from the time travel. She was breathing hard, exhausted, and it took her a couple of minutes to return to the usual respiratory rate. She didn’t have time, she kept repeating herself, she didn’t have time to lose.

When she managed to get up, she noticed something pressing against her nape. Something blunt, hard and small: the tip of a wand.

"I don’t know who you are or how you managed to get here, but I would suggest turning around slowly and not doing anything foolish, or you will end up flying away to the opposite wall."

Hermione turned around, very slowly, and looked at the man she had in front of her, and who was looking at her with obvious distrust while pointing at her neck with the wand. Her heart skipped a beat: here he was again, alive, safe and well fed. She felt so overwhelmed by the memories that she couldn’t keep her eyes from flooding with tears.

"Sirius, I know you won’t believe this, but I come from the future to warn you of something. Please, before you do anything, listen to me."

Sirius pushed a strand of hair away from his face and got closer to her. His eyes almost popped out of their sockets.

"It can’t be…" he muttered "Hermione…?"

* * *

 

Sitting at the kitchen table, Sirius finished listening to Hermione’s entire story, which she synthesized admirably to tell him everything that was important in the shortest time possible. He didn’t have any reason not to believe her. She knew things that only the real Hermione would know, and besides that, it was her: it was her face, her eyes, her mouth… only ten years older. The story was credible, too; it was enough to look her in the eyes to understand the atrocities she had seen and the suffering she had endured.

"Don’t go, Sirius, don’t go to the Ministry today… Bellatrix’s going to kill you, and Harry will be devastated. Neither Remus nor I know how this could affect the future, but Harry doesn’t deserve to be left alone again."

He looked into her eyes, smiling slightly.

"So the old Moony is the only survivor, huh? Old flea-bitten wolf… And on top of that, him and Nymphadora… He should be ashamed, that cradle robber…"

Hermione couldn’t help but smile. She no longer remembered Sirius’ endearing humour, and listening to it again seemed like a dream. It hurt to give him the news.

"Tonks died, too, probably yesterday."

Sirius sighed. For some strange reason, it all seemed like overwhelming logic. Maybe it was because of that strange Hermione he had in front of him. Hermione had always impressed him a little, a girl so responsible and mature, who sometimes looked at him with a reproachful expression when he tried to trick Harry into doing something too risky. He told her, and she laughed out loud. It had been years since she laughed like that.

"I can’t believe the great Sirius Black is afraid of a fifteen-year-old school girl…" she teased him, wiping the tears out of her eyes.

"I’m not afraid at all." he pointed out, very dignified. "It’s just that as a teenager you looked like a small version of McGonagall…"

She thought that the situation seemed surreal: both of them there, drinking Butterbeer while, at some point in the future, their friends died one after the other. She felt so good there, talking with him, that she thought that in a few minutes she’d be going back to the future and everything could still be the same, and she could find herself in Dumbledore’s chambers, with Remus by her side, and Tonks’ cold body in the Great Hall, and she started to cry. Sirius understood perfectly well what she was feeling, and approached her, made her stand and hugged her warmly.

"Calm, Hermione, do not worry about anything." He whispered in her ear. "I don’t have any intention of letting Voldemort have grilled Sirius Black for dinner." He gently stroked her hair, strangely united to her by the painful past they shared. "When this is over, I’ll explain to Remus and Dumbledore what you’ve told me, and we’ll decide what we’re going to do with all this information."

She moved away a few inches and looked at him, smiling with relief. As she brought her lips to the ex-con’s cheek, her body started to vanish, until the body Sirius was hugging disappeared completely from the kitchen, leaving behind only the warmth of its presence.

Sirius picked up from the floor the red woollen tie that had held Hermione’s hair before the hug and smiled. He put it in his pocket because, in the end, no one ever knows how useful a hair tie that has come to us from the future can be.


	2. Chapter 1: Be careful what you wish for

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> About to lose the second war against Voldemort, Hermione has an hour to go back to the past and prevent Sirius' death by falling through the Veil. But when she returns to her present, she finds everything very, very different...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing. Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling, and this work is all LaraG's, I'm only translating it for your enjoyment.

**Chapter 1: Be careful what you wish for, it might just come true**

Light. Dim, bluish white light. She blinked several times and the light began to differentiate itself in warm colours. A bedroom. She was laying on a huge bed, in a huge bedroom, decorated with exquisite taste. Well, either she had been captured by the Death Eaters and was in Malfoy Manor, or things had definitely improved.

She had returned from the trip with the temporary Time-Turner and, without a doubt, had been unconscious a couple of hours. The problem was whether the present she had come back to was the same present she had left. Little was known about the effects Time-Turners had on alternative futures.

There was someone with her, sitting on a chair. Well, sitting… more like laying on it, head resting on the palm of their hand, asleep. Her heart skipped a beat: it was Lupin. Her dear Remus, at least, had survived. She sat up in bed and looked at the werewolf. Well, this Remus seemed to be in better shape than the one she had left behind an hour ago.

Lupin had very short hair, less grey, too. His features were fuller, with a healthy filling between skin and stone. This Remus looked younger and healthier and had undoubtedly led a better life than the one she had left in that dilapidated room. He moved a little and opened his eyes. She smiled at him.

"Hermione!"

The werewolf rubbed his face with his hands, got up and went to her. He sat down on the edge of the bed and gave her a hug filled with warmth and somewhat less confidence than the ‘other’ Remus, the one that had fought with her until the end.

"How are you?" he murmured close to her ear, rubbing her nape in his hug.

"A little nervous." She admitted. "You… know everything that happened there, where I come from, right?"

He pulled back and gave her a gentle smile.

"All of us, those of us who love you, know what happened. Sirius told us everything, ten years ago. We know many died, in that future, or rather present, now, you travelled from a decade ago, but with your intervention, saving Sirius, you changed the past… you know a Remus that isn’t me. None of us is the same one you knew because we’ve all lived different things. Our life has been different from yours. And the Hermione we’ve all known these past ten years, well… fortunately, she hasn’t been through all the terrible experiences you have, but that Hermione will never come back. You will definitely replace her. We were all prepared, waiting for November 10, this year, because you told Sirius the date, and we knew what would happen. Even you… well, Hermione, our Hermione… you were so nervous, knowing you’d be replaced by a different version of yourself."

Hermione felt dizzy. She hadn’t counted on that. Of course, by going back to the past, she had changed everything. The previous ten years had been different, and she had returned to the future… no, the present, to replace this other Hermione that had lived ten years in a past where Sirius hadn’t died at the Department of Mysteries. And here came the big question.

"Remus… what happened to Sirius? And the others? And Voldemort?"

The werewolf shivered slightly. He smiled a little, and then more broadly, but with a worried expression.

"Later. Hermione, everyone was waiting for you to wake up. We’ve even taken shifts next to your bed. You’ve been unconscious for a week, you know?"

"A… a week?!" she was stunned. A week… she really didn’t expect that.

"Well, we’ve been thinking it was for the best and, in the end, we decided for a massive exposure to the stimulus. Get dressed. We’ll wait for you downstairs. You just have to go down the stairs and enter the hall. It’s the door on the right, the one to the lobby. We’ll explain everything there."

She nodded. Getting up from the bed, she realised she was wearing a pair of dark grey men’s pyjamas, several sizes bigger than her own. She looked at Remus with a questioning expression.

"It’s Sirius’. Don’t ask… we’ll explain everything to you. It’s going to take you a lot of time to find out everything that happened here these past ten years."

"Remus, where are my clothes? Where do I live? Whose house is this?" she couldn’t help asking because there were hundreds of questions cramming her head.

Remus took her hands and smiled warmly at her.

"I’m going to give you some advice: you come from a different time. Basically, there’s only one Hermione until fifteen, but your life split in two, then: one is the Hermione that lived the defeat in the war, Auror and member of the Order of the Phoenix, that is, you; and the other is the Hermione we know, also an Auror, also a member of the Order of the Phoenix, but who didn’t see most of her friends die. I know this doesn’t go with your character, but leave the information for later and just enjoy the present, for now." He stroked the top of her head and messed up her hair. He opened his mouth to add something, but immediately closed it and waited a few moments, looking at her with an odd expression. "Your clothes are in the wardrobes. The house belongs to Sirius; we thought it was the best place for you to spend these days. We’ll explain why."

She nodded slowly and gave him a shy smile. Remus left her alone, and she entered the door on the left, which opened to a fantastic bathroom, with a huge bathtub and all kinds of cosmetic products to fill it with bubbles. She smiled. So, Sirius’ house, huh? Well, she was glad that her trip to the past had at least served to keep someone alive. Sure that, loaded with galleons as he was, and with the reputation of ladies’ man he’d had at Hogwarts, his love life was the most hectic.

She pulled the pyjama shirt over her head and let the trousers slid down her legs. There was a full-length mirror and, gulping, she looked in it. Gee, the Hermione from this time was also better than her. She didn’t have bags under her eyes, she was less skinny, and her skin was literally gleaming. The eyes had an intense, lively glow. It was evident that this Hermione was happy.

She took a quick bath, got dressed with a pair of jeans and a shirt, and dried her hair with a hot air spell. God, she was starting to realise that her trip in time had gone well, had gone well… HAD GONE WELL! Remus looked very happy; surely there had been many fewer casualties. Had they won the war? Would they be in the middle of it? She looked in the mirror again and started laughing. At least, her bushy hair remained impassive to time travel.

She left the room and held her breath. Wow, what a staircase… It was a Victorian building, perfectly restored, with a marble staircase and fine wood capable of taking any architect’s breath away. The lobby’s floor was coated in lapis lazuli and malachite. Well. Definitely, Sirius Black had to be the wizarding world’s most eligible bachelor.

When she reached the double door of the hall, she knocked and held her breath. She was very nervous. God, she was trembling.

"Okay, I’m going in!" she shouted as she opened the doors.

No.

It couldn’t be.

It was too wonderful to be true.

At the other end of the room was a fireplace, lit at that moment.

Some green flames, produced by the Floo powder, were still flashing in the hearth. And filling the room furnished and decorated in the most comfortable, cosy and exquisite way possible; there was a group of people.

The people that had mean to her as much or more than her own family.

Harry. Ron. Ginny. Tonks. The Weasley brothers, except for Percy. Mr and Mrs Weasley. Neville Longbottom. Luna Lovegood.

In a corner, a little apart from the rest, the one whom she had seen barely an hour ago in her memories, a week, actually, ten years in real time. Sirius Black, looking at her with a wry but somewhat distant smile.

She couldn’t help it.

Thick tears fell down her cheeks, while happiness burst into a heart accustomed to pain and loss. She looked at Harry and he smiled at her, with a certain melancholy.

"HARRY!"

She started running towards him and hugged him with such force that she nearly knocked him over. He responded shyly to the embrace at first, but when he felt her warmth he ended up squeezing her with equal strength, as if it had spent years, just like her, wishing he had her in his arms that way. He pulled back a few inches and smiled at her, now, with open joy, as if he felt just as incredulous as she.

"Hermione…"

"Enough, it’s my turn."

She looked at the redhead who, smiling wildly, pulled her out of Harry’s arms and squeezed her unceremoniously. Hermione was crying so much that she could hardly see his face. Ron’s hug was interrupted by Ginny, who seemed less fragile and more determined. Mrs Weasley, Mr Weasley… she almost couldn’t bear Tonks’ hug, the last one she had seen dead, murdered on the Great Hall’s floor, while she and Remus waited for her in vain.

For several minutes, the emotions in that room were so intense, that a hungry Dementor would have made a killing. When she had given free rein to all her emotions, it was Sirius’ turn. She smiled at him pleased. The Sirius she had met had died when Hermione was fifteen and was really the one with whom she’d had less confidence, although their ‘recent’ conversation had been a special link between them. He approached her, with his half smile at the corner of his lips. She waited for him and watched him closely. Obviously healthy, well fed, with tanned skin and hair a little shorter, he looked a lot like the Sirius on Harry’s parents’ wedding pictures. He looked amused.

"You did it." Was everything he said.

She grinned and wiped some tears.

"We did it." She rectified.

He seemed determined to stay a meter away from her. Was it her imagination or everyone else was a little tense?

"Well, in the end, I’ve technically saved your life. That would merit a hug, don’t you think?" she jested.

He was grinning now and, coming near her, wrapped her in a bear hug while saying out loud.

"Even two…"

 

* * *

 

Hermione felt so happy that, even after a day full of intense emotions, she wasn’t feeling sleepy at all, but Mrs Weasley fulfilled to perfection her role as foster mother and, after dinner (that she herself prepared on Sirius’ huge kitchen, letting the house-elves help her), she made Hermione drink an entire glass of Sleeping Draught and sent her to bed.

"Hmm… house-elves?" asked Hermione, looking at Sirius with a slightly disapproving expression while Mrs Weasley worked in the kitchen.

The Animagus started laughing.

"I see there are some things that never change." He replied with a grin. "The ‘other’ Hermione would have never let me have elves in conditions of slavery. Every one of them is hired with fourteen payments and vacations."

"Oh… sorry for my mistrust." She murmured regretfully.

So, after filling her belly with Mrs Weasley’s excellent stew, washed down with Butterbeer, and spending an hour talking in the cosy Black living room, Hermione was forced to go to bed.

"But I’m perfectly well…"

"You need to rest, Hermione." Refused Molly while pointing to the large bedroom where she had woken up.

"Come on, I’ll go with you." Interrupted Tonks, grabbing her friend by the shoulders. "Tomorrow’s Saturday. How about we go shopping?"

"Shopping?"

Hermione stood still for a moment. She didn’t remember the last time she had gone shopping and, anyway, she didn’t even know if she had clothes, if she had money… oh, right, Remus had said she was an Auror… Tonks seemed to read her mind.

"I’m sure you’ve had very little time for frivolities in your life recently, right? Don’t worry; you have a healthy bank account at Gringotts. We’ll go there first so you calm down, and then we’ll go to Diagon Alley. And maybe we can get an ice cream at Fortescue’s?"

Florence. His body had appeared charred in a fire at the ice cream parlour, at the beginning of the war. Hermione’s eyes started filling with tears again.

"Oh, wow! Bad memories, huh? " supposed Tonks, squeezing her arm more. "Florence is alive and still making the best ice creams of magical London, Hermione. I think Molly’s right; you take this and go to bed."

She handed her the glass with the potion and waited for her to drink it. The girl laid down in bed, impeccably made by the elves, and let Tonks take off her shoes while she quickly slipped into a nightmare-less sleep.

 

* * *

 

Unfortunately, sleeping potions help you to fall asleep, but a mind full of strong emotions is quick to awaken. Hermione opened her eyes and needed a while to know where she was. Oh, right, the temporary Time-Turner. Everyone was alive. And Hagrid had survived, too, and was still in Hogwarts. And McGonagall was now the Headmistress because Dumbledore had also died in this reality. But the others were alive. She felt light and with no wish to try and fall asleep again. She looked at a magic clock that sat on the bedside table: two in the morning.

She got up and left the room. She thought she heard voices in the hall, so she slowly went down, pressed to the wall. Everybody was having a somewhat overprotective attitude towards her, and her brain was starting to urgently need information. The only bad things she had learned about were Dumbledore and Percy’s deaths. Because knowing that Lucius, Draco and Narcissa Malfoy shared a cell in Azkaban was irrelevant to her.

She sharpened her hearing. Sirius was one of the people talking, but there was another voice, calm and slow. Remus, of course. Occasionally, Tonks’ clear voice was heard among the other two. A little bit more, Hermione. This isn’t spying… it’s just… speeding up the information process. She took her wand from her jeans’ pocket and muttered a useful spell that opened a hole in the wall through which she saw what was happening in the room while they kept looking at the wall.

"When are you going to tell her?" Remus was asking.

"She has to learn about things in a progressive and atraumatic way." Answered Sirius, taking a sip from the glass he had in his hand. Remus and Sirius were drinking some amber liquid, while Tonks savoured what looked like elf-made wine. The Lupin marriage was sitting on a couch and Sirius on an armchair beside them, next to the chimney.

"Why are men always so overprotective?" sighed Tonks, fixing her sight on the flames.

"I’m not overprotective."Remus was indignant, looking at her.

The Metamorphmagus turned to him, one eyebrow raised and her hair quickly changing to emerald green.

"No?" she asked very slowly." locking yourself in a nuclear explosion-proof bunker with a jerry can of Wolfsbane Potion every full moon seems little overprotective to you?"

"A werewolf is dangerous." Grunted him, looking away.

"If you drink the potion, the most you can do is pass me the fleas."

"I don’t have fleas!"

"Enough, lovebirds…" scolded them Sirius, causing the couple to blush to the roots of their hair. "Hermione has to build again her relationships with each one of us, and that’s going to take time. Besides, she has to go back to work and her Auror missions, and all those changes are excessive."

"Sirius, you have to tell her. You owe it to her." Repeated the werewolf.

"I can’t." his friend insisted, taking another sip from his glass.

"There are things you can’t let pass, or leave for later. It’s something very important in her life. Hermione… well, the ‘other’ Hermione told you to do it, that she would understand." Said Lupin once again.

Sirius sighed.

"It’s not that easy, right now…” he said, shaking his head. "The ‘other’ Hermione won’t come back, and this one doesn’t see me since she was fifteen… she has more trust in any of you, especially both of you since you were with her until the end." He sighed deeply. "She deserves to spend all the time she can with Harry… she saw him die two years ago, it’s clear she misses him terribly…"

"Stop it, Sirius…" Remus interrupted him in such a deliberately slow and low tone that Hermione had to make an extra effort to hear him. "Stop torturing yourself ahead of time. Cut the nonsense of her finding out in a ‘progressive and atraumatic way’. Hermione deserves to know as soon as possible. You have to tell her that it’s been a year since she’s your wife."

FA-THUD!

Remus, Tonks and Sirius looked at each other for a fraction of a second and raced out to the lobby. An unconscious Hermione laid there, wand in hand.

"I don’t think that’s any good for my ego." Sighed Sirius while slipping an arm beneath her shoulders and another beneath her knees, taking her to the bedroom. "Here I thought I was an excellent match, and look how she got when she found out she was married to me."

Tonks whispered something into Remus’ ear. "We’re going home, Sirius." The werewolf told him as the other man looked his way and nodded while going up the stairs with Hermione in his arms. "You and your wife need a long conversation alone."

"If she doesn’t flee by the fireplace before." The Animagus wryly remarked while Tonks stifled her laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! I know, I know, it's been a while since I posted the first chapter. But, to be honest, real life has been kind of a-, well, you understand, and I didn't have time to post the next one. So, here it is, at last. Consider it a present for all of you 'cause my birthday has me in a very good mood (August 27, keep the date *wink*). And remember, this is not m work, I'm just translating LaraG's amazing fic because it's way too good for people who don't know Spanish to not been able to read it. Any comment or opinion is welcome!


	3. Chapter 2: No use crying over spilt milk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> About to lose the second war against Voldemort, Hermione has an hour to go back to the past and prevent Sirius' death by falling through the Veil. But when she returns to her present, she finds everything very, very different...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing. Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling, and this work is all LaraG's, I'm only translating it for your enjoyment.

**Chapter 2: No use crying over spilt milk**

When Hermione woke up, Sirius was sitting next to her, in a comfy armchair, reading the  _Prophet_. Besides him, a little table with a coffee pot and two mugs. He hadn't seemed to notice she had opened her eyes, so she used that opportunity to look at him closely, while she thought about what she'd heard.

She'd been married to him for a year, Remus had said. The Sirius she remembered more vividly was the proscribed hermit that lived in hiding at Grimmauld Place, when she was fifteen, though she had been surprised by the kind behaviour of Harry's Godfather when she had appeared in the past, aided by the temporary Time-Turner. Sirius had an undeniable charm, but he was old enough to be her father, and Hermione had never been attracted to older men. It seemed unbelievable that 'her other self', to put a name to her, had married him. The main problem was that 'her other self' was really no other than herself, and now the question arose of what she should do with that marriage. Had she gotten married because she had fallen in love with Sirius (which seemed hardly believable) or for some other reason?

Sirius, focused on some particularly interesting news on the paper, had the elegant, casual air of an English lord during a hunt, only he looked much younger. Yes, handsome and elegant were definitely the two words that described him, but not enough to enthuse Hermione with the word 'marriage'.

"Do you like what you see, or are you thinking about fainting again?"

Hermione jumped in bed, startled. Sirius was looking at her with an ironic grin while folding the paper and pouring hot coffee into the mugs.

"Here, it will do you good. I'm giving you two options: a good glass of Sleeping Draught and rest till morning, or some hours of conversation around coffee and I explain you everything that has happened during these ten years… everything I'm aware of, of course…" he offered, holding out to her the mug of coffee in one hand and a flask with the potion in the other. Hermione simply accepted the cup and stirred its content with the teaspoon.

"How long have we been married?" she asked.

"Since June last year. We've been married for a year and five months." Sirius answered, adding some sugar to his coffee. "But it's been three years since we… started our relationship…"

"Relationship?" Hermione asked, surprised.

Sirius stared at her, a wry smile dancing on his lips.

"Hmmm… well, yes, we really didn't decide to get married overnight one day, weird as it may seem to you. And, actually, we got married for the usual motive. What I mean is that the wedding wasn't the result of some crazy visionary, or was something written in the stars, nor were we forced to do it because of the war, or something of the like. I'm sorry to tell you that we got married unique and exclusively because we felt like it."

"Oh…" Hermione muttered, her cheeks red with shame. "Sirius, I didn't mean…"

Sirius reassured her with a wave of his hand, dismissing the thought. "Don't worry. After all, to you, I'm a stranger." But Hermione was able to notice the slight tinge of frustration that marked his words.

"Uh… you and her… me, I mean… did you talk about what could happen when, on November 10 of 2004, I took the place of the Hermione you knew?" the girl asked, trying to find out something about Sirius' feelings and her own.

"Lots of times." Sirius sighed. "In fact, I didn't want us to get married… don't get me wrong" he added, catching her surprised look; "I wanted to get married, too, but I thought it was fairer that, when you came back from the past, you didn't find yourself tied to anyone. And I still do. You said that it was better this way, and I agreed to please you. But I believe you have enough with adapting to your new life, filled with memories you don't have, to try and start over while dragging a… well, a husband…" he finished, taking a final sip from his mug and filling it again.

Hermione remained deep in her thoughts for a while. Well, it seemed like Sirius thought, like her, that there was no reason to continue in a marriage between two people who hadn't seen each other for ten years, and who don't have a single memory in common. She told him that. He shook his head.

"I'll do whatever you want, Hermione." He pointed out. "If you are clear that you want to undo this pairing, I'll stand by you, and if you want to wait for a while before asking for a separation so we can at least get to know each other better, I'll stand by you, too." He looked her in the eye, and she saw that his lively gaze had gone out a little.

"I suppose this house is yours" she said, looking around. "You have excellent taste" she noted, appreciatively.

" _You_  have great taste" he corrected her. "This house was picked by you, and you supervised the whole restoration and down to the last detail of the inside decoration."

She looked at him with eyes like saucers. Never would she have imagined herself doing that. She remembered the luxurious bathroom that caught her attention. And here she was thinking it was a set prepared by Sirius for his conquests… an involuntary smile slipped into her face.

"Hmmm… I don't want to know what you're thinking" Sirius shook his head. "But, well, aren't you going to ask me anything else about your past?"

"My past…" she whispered. "It's just that, I already have a past" she tried to explain, more to herself than to Sirius.

"Hermione, don't make the mistake of thinking that the Hermione that lived here up to last week and you are two different people" he advised. "You're the same person, but you've had different experiences and, probably, you wouldn't have reacted in the same way to the same situation, either, because your background is different, too. But, in essence, you're the same person. Same personality, same body, different stories and memories" he pointed out.

Hermione couldn't help blushing to the eyebrows when she heard Sirius referring to her body. After all, if they'd been married for more than a year, it was obvious that they'd shared situations far more intimate than that one. Sirius seemed to note what she was thinking and changed the subject.

"When you graduated Hogwarts, you as well as Ron and Harry were admitted to Auror training" he explained. "Remus and I, as qualified Aurors, belonged to a group led by Alastor Moody and, even though the training program lasts about five years, you shared missions with us, especially during your last two years. You finished your training at twenty-two and joined the Order of the Phoenix. The war was in full swing, and even if Harry was mainly focused on finding all the Horcruxes, the three of you sent a lot of Death Eaters to Azkaban. After that, Harry spent six months in Transylvania, looking for one of the last Horcruxes, and two years ago was the final battle" another sip of coffee. "There's no need to tell you that Harry killed Voldemort" he clarified.

"He killed him?" Hermione asked, surprised. "I always thought that Harry would never be able to cast an Avada Kedavra on Voldemort while truly desiring it".

"He had enough motives to do it" Sirius replied, without further deepening the topic. "And he let his darkest side take control. Harry, like all of us, felt a profound hatred inside of him towards the one who had deprived him of his happiness during his childhood, and who threatened to take it away from him now as an adult as well. When the moment came, Harry didn't hesitate".

Hermione stayed pensive a few instants.

"And what happened to Harry?"

Sirius considered his answer for a moment.

"He never seemed to regret what happened. It was Voldemort or all of us, and Harry had it very clear since the beginning what it was he had to do. Thanks to you, especially".

"Thanks to me?" she asked astonished.

Sirius nodded. "When you came, ten years ago, I told Dumbledore and Remus what had happened. We decided to tell you all, and you reacted like adults, and not like the teenagers you were at the time. Harry took the decision of doing everything that was possible to avoid losing the war. You…" Sirius added, looking at her with an affectionate smile, "were really affected. You pictured yourself in ten years, alone and about to be murdered by Death Eaters, and started having nightmares that didn't leave you for many years. Have you ever had that kind of nightmares?" he asked her.

"Never" she simply answered.

"I figured" he replied. "Sometimes the fear is worse than reality, and you were terrified just thinking of your fears coming true. Perhaps, in your own past, you've checked that pain is more bearable than it seems" he added.

Hermione found herself suddenly connected to Sirius by the same link she had felt a week ago when she had travelled to the past to warn him of the danger. The both shared a past full of pain and losses, but Sirius seemed much happier now than she remembered. Would she have anything to do with that?

Suddenly, Hermione remembered something. "And my parents?" she asked.

Sirius remained quiet for a moment.

"Exactly, what are you asking?" he enquired

Hermione couldn't help but notice that Sirius had become defensive.

"Well, my parents died three years ago…" she answered in a tiny voice. "I just wanted to know if in this past… well…"

Sirius sighed, relieved.

"They're not only alive, but your father didn't take it well that you decided to marry an old decrepit wizard nineteen years your senior" he explained with a half smirk. "There weren't any problems with your mother, though: we clicked from the start. But I think our father was tempted by the idea of suing me for infanticide" he added ironically. "Although since your last birthday he addresses me without homicidal wishes, I think. I believe it would do you good to pay them a visit as soon as possible, Hermione. Besides, you've been neglecting them a little lately".

She felt as if they had taken a huge weight away from her. They were alive. She felt the urgent need to see her mother.

"Hermione, are you listening to me?"

She came back to it. "Sorry, Sirius, you were saying?"

He seemed a little uncomfortable.

"Well, when you came here, ten years ago, you explained a lot of things about the war, about the dead and those of you who had survived. You told me about what was going on between Remus and Tonks. But you didn't tell me anything about yourself, or if there was someone by your side. You and I spoke about it lots of times: what if you were in a relationship with someone? Surely you wouldn't have told me, and when you eventually came back, you'd find that someone alive, while you're married to a man you barely know and with whom you don't have much confidence. Don't say anything if you don't want to, but it's something I would like to know".

Hermione looked at him carefully. Should she tell him? There was something in her head screaming at her not to answer Sirius' question, that she was about to make a mistake. But she'd had a complicated life, and she had grown used to not tell white lies and tell the truth in a sudden, blunt way.

"Yes, there is someone, Sirius. Someone that was very important to me, until he was killed, two years ago. I could never forget about him" she pinpointed.

Sirius merely said one word.

"Harry"

Hermione nodded in silence.

 

* * *

 

Sirius and Hermione didn't speak much more after that. He seemed to assume that that was the end of the conversation, although that hadn't been her intention. Sirius explained to her that the temporary hodgepodge they had created opened a multitude of doors for her and that she didn't need to feel in debt to him at all.

"I assumed all risks at the time" he told her. "I knew you'd find yourself confused, married with someone you barely knew and harbouring possible feelings towards someone else. Maybe I should go live somewhere else, but the problem is that Alastor believes that imprudent".

"Alastor?" she asked surprised. "What does he have to do with this?"

Sirius smiled.

"You have quite a few enemies, Hermione, as well as the rest of the members of the Order. Although you specifically have a special enemy: Draco Malfoy"

"Malfoy! But, is he free?" she inquired with a slight hint of fear in her voice that didn't go unnoticed by Sirius.

"No" he replied, making a reassuring gesture. "As we told you before, he's in Azkaban with his parents. You took it as something personal putting him in there, and I assure you that whenever something gets into your head, you get it" Sirius smiled, and Hermione seemed to perceive in his gesture the affection he felt towards her. "But there are more Death Eaters running free, and many of them are loyal to the Malfoys. Alastor has always feared reprisals aimed at you, and I assure you that he got very happy when he knew we were going to get married and that he'd had two Aurors living under the same roof. He thought that having me at home would be safer for you than having to keep living alone at your floor in London".

"I can take care of myself, thank you" she hurried to say, her self-esteem a little irked.

"And I'm sure of that" he assured, calming; "but Alastor prefers that we keep living under the same roof until you get used to your new life" he laughed under his breath as if he was remembering a conversation with Moody. "You know, he says that while you're a little confused and vulnerable, you won't be one hundred percent in a state of…"

" _Constant vigilance_ " she finished with a smile. "Yes, I can imagine that. Very typical of Moody".

Sirius' face lit up when he saw her openly smile for the first time during their conversation. She looked so overwhelmed…

"Well, there's also the fact that Alastor is a helpless romantic and pretends that I put into action all of my rusty skills of seduction so that you forget about the divorce" he added with a funny gesture. "Much to his chagrin, I've already told him that if you accept that I stay here for a while, I will sleep downstairs".

Hermione deeply thanked Sirius' attitude. He seemed to assume a breakup that seemed inevitable and made everything easier for her. He accepted the existence of her affection towards Harry in her past with sportsmanship, without asking any type of questions beyond what she had told him. He really was making this so easy for her.

She started noticing how her eyelids became heavy, and Sirius, noticing as well, insisted on her sleeping a little. It would dawn in a couple of hours, and the light would start filtering through the bedroom windows, so Sirius insisted that she lie down again and closed the curtains one by one. He picked up the coffee table and his seat with a flick of his wand and tucked her in, joking a little with her. Hermione thanked the unromantic comradely attitude, though she wondered if Sirius was really in love with her. He seemed to treat her like a protestant little sister, and she told him so.

"A little sister?" He raised an eyebrow. "Hermione, I can assure you that I've never harboured any fraternal feelings towards you" he said sarcastically. "By the way, in your last coffee I've put some of the sleeping potion, which will affect you right away, but tomorrow morning I have to give you a letter".

"A letter?" she asked, feeling her eyelids get heavier.

"Yes, a letter" he confirmed. "A very peculiar letter, because it's a letter written to you by yourself" he said with a smile. "You threatened me with all kinds of curses if I didn't give it to you and you even cast two hundred spells on it so I couldn't open it and read it before you. I have to say, you didn't trust me too much, I hope things get a little better with your improved version".

Hermione nodded, comforted by the facilities he was giving her to feel comfortable, and after a few seconds, she fell deeply asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone! I know, it's been more than a week since I updated, and I wanted to do it yesterday, but there are assignments I have to do if I want to become a decent professional someday, so I beg for your patience. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it. Thanks to all of you who had the time to leave a review, I really appreciate knowing that you are following this story and enjoying it as much as me. Love you all!


	4. Chapter 3: A word to the wise is enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> About to lose the second war against Voldemort, Hermione has an hour to go back to the past and prevent Sirius' death by falling through the Veil. But when she returns to her present, she finds everything very, very different...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing. Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling, and this work is all LaraG's, I'm only translating it for your enjoyment.

**Chapter 3: A word to the wise is enough**

When Hermione woke up, she was still wearing the same jeans and t-shirt from the day before. Hmmm… how comfortable this bed was. With just the right amount of rigidity, but soft, and it was huge, too. She could just roll over and over…

Immediately, the idea that this was the bed she had shared with Sirius came to her mind, and her stomach lurched. She got up quickly to not give the subject another thought and got in the bathroom to take a quick shower.

Every time she looked at the huge bathtub, she was embarrassed by what she had thought of Sirius the day before. She knew that the Marauder had been very ‘popular’ at Hogwarts, but she knew nothing of his life after that. He had said that their relationship had begun three years ago. How had his life been until then?

Once she had showered, she walked to the wardrobe in the search for clothes. Well, she had enough, but not too much, and as many robes as Muggle clothes. They were of a sober and comfortable style, like her own, although there were more skirts and dresses than expected. She went again with the t-shirt and jeans combination. Just when she was about to close the doors, she almost choked in fright.

In one of the wardrobe sides, there was a collection of wonderful silk nightgowns. They were really exquisite, with a velvety and light touch. She took one between her fingers and lifted it in the air: it was white, with straps and a deep V-neck. It most certainly came all the way down to her ankles. On the side-hanger, there was a matching robe, more consistent than the gown but equally thin. The nightgown was a true wonder, and surely it was frighteningly expensive. And tremendously erotic, without a doubt.

Hermione couldn’t help blushing to the core. That wasn’t something that went much with her, wearing this kind of lingerie for sleeping. Would they be presents from Sirius? Of course, no wonder she had woken up wrapped in one of Sirius’ giant pyjamas. Surely he had thought it more prudent to put on her a set of chaste and unisex pyjamas that didn’t cling to her curves like one of those nightgowns surely did. At least if Remus and the others were going to keep vigil by her bed.

When she went down the stairs, she walked towards the opposite side of the hall and found the dining room. Sirius was already there, sitting at the table and taking occasional sips from a cup that gave off a deep smell of coffee while spreading butter and jam on a slice of toast. An open copy of the _Prophet_ rested at his left. He lifted his gaze when she walked in.

“Ah, you’re up! I don’t know what you usually have for breakfast, so I told the elves to make a little of everything” he explained.

Hermione grimaced. The truth was that it had been a long while since she last calmly sat down at a table to have breakfast, so she had no idea what she usually had. She looked at the food display that was on the table: coffee, pumpkin juice, toast, jams, honey and butter, smoked ham, boiled eggs, a tray of soft cheeses and a sugar-coated fruitcake that made it impossible for her mouth not to water. Hermione was suddenly conscious of the fact that she hadn’t properly eaten in days, and Molly’s dinner seemed like nothing more than a wonderful dream.

“You’ve done well” she answered with a wide smile.

She sat in front of Sirius, grabbed two pieces of toast and started buttering them. While hormone focused on serving herself a formidable breakfast, Sirius poured her a cup of coffee and a big glass of pumpkin juice, wearing an open smile. She started eating with obvious appetite, and when she had polished off two pieces of toast, an egg with ham and a slice of cake, she looked up and crossed her gaze with Sirius’ look of amusement. Hermione would have sworn that the amusement was mixed with a small fraction of evident adoration, but she dismissed the thought immediately.

“I see you haven’t lost your good habits” he simply said.

She lifted an eyebrow.

“What do you mean?”

“That you eat like a horse, as always” he laughed. “Actually, this was your favourite breakfast on the weekends”

“Is this what we did on Saturday and Sunday mornings?” she asked.

“Yes, although during the summer we used to have breakfast at the terrace on the second floor. On days of intense heat, if we woke up late, we asked the elves to set the table next to the pool” he added.

Hermione blushed when she heard that bit about ‘waking up late’. The truth was that she didn’t have lots of experience in the love department, and it made her nervous thinking about the intimacy that Sirius had shared with her and, above all, how at ease he seemed with it all. If he noticed what she was thinking, he didn’t show it.

“So? What are you doing today?”

The question took Hermione by surprise. She had no idea, actually. Suddenly she found herself a bit lost.

“Truth is, it’s been a while since I’ve known what it is to spend a leisure weekend” she explained. “The war intensified in such a way during the last two years that… well… actually, all I’m used to is fighting and surviving”.

Sirius stared at her with an expression hard to read. He sighed.

“I’m sorry” he simply said. “I hate that you had to live all of that, although I’m sure that as an Auror you’ll be thankful for all that experience” he added while folding the paper. “But I ask again: now you are a normal person, with a normal job, and you’ve got a long weekend ahead of you. Tonks invited you to go shopping with her, don’t you remember?” he reminded her with a smile.

“Yes, she did” she answered more lively. “I don’t know if I can get used to doing something as frivolous as going shopping again”.

“I’m sure it will do you well” he settled the issue with a gesture. “When I got out of Azkaban I couldn’t even think of doing normal things, because I had to hide, but as soon as Voldemort’s return became public and my innocence was proved, I took advantage of the first day in which I had some free time to go to Diagon Alley and the Muggle side of London and buy a whole new wardrobe”.

Hermione burst into laughter.

“Come on…” she teased, clearly stating that she did not believe him.

Sirius gave her an ironic glance, raising an eyebrow.

“Don’t believe me? Well, I assure you that after twelve years in Azkaban wearing a filthy robe, buying a whole new wardrobe was one of the greatest pleasures I could get” he confessed with a lopsided grin.

Pleasures. Again, Hermione couldn’t help blushing. Damn it, she seemed a school girl with rampant hormones.

“Ahem… Hermione, you see…” he began with a serious look that obviously masked a mad desire to laugh in her face. “I don’t think I can help it if sometimes my words carry a double meaning… but I swear I’m not doing it on purpose. I can’t just wipe out my memories of one year of marriage and two of dating, although we could try with a little _Obliviate_ …”

She threw a napkin holder at his face, red as a beetroot, but he caught it easily before it even grazed him.

“Oh, come on, you wouldn’t expect to hit a former Quidditch player, would you?” he joked. “Come on, finish your breakfast and get ready if you don’t want Tonks to wait for you. If I remember correctly, you need some winter clothes. Oh, and perhaps some pyjamas” he added to her embarrassment.

“Right, because I have enough nightgowns to set up a store” she blurted, about to explode.

He laughed.

“You have a lousy taste for all clothes, except lingerie” he let drop quite naturally. “Most of them you picked yourself, for your information. And if you want to seduce Harry, I assure you that they are one hundred percent effective” he finished as if he was talking about the weather. Hermione, who was drinking the pumpkin juice, turned from red to incandescent orange in a split second and began to cough compulsively, trying to stop the juice to get to her lungs.

“Si- Sirius…” she muttered in between coughs.

“Hermione, I find this version of you way to virginal”

“SIRIUS!”

“Well, maybe too quick to assume that you’ve had time in between _Crucios_ and _Avadas_ to… okay, okay, don’t look at me like that! _Accio letter_!” and envelope flew to Sirius’ fingers, and he offered it to the girl. “Here, what I promised yesterday. I hope that your other version doesn’t paint me too deviant”.

Hermione ran up the stairs, mentally thanking Sirius for the attitude he was having towards her. She was nobody’s fool and understood perfectly Sirius’ strategy. He joked around, provoked her and made her blush as if she were fifteen again and, that way, something that could have been so awkward as sharing their first breakfast together became a funny moment in a neutral and friendly environment. The teasing about seducing Harry had slightly unnerved her, but she supposed that he wanted to make her understand that he, at least, gave her free rein to do whatever she wanted with her life. Really, he was too charming to be true.

 

* * *

 

 

All the while, Sirius was leaving the dining room and entering the hall where giving the ruckus that could be heard from inside there; he guessed Nymphadora had just arrived by Floo network. And sure, when he opened the door he found her sprawled on the floor, next to the wrought iron pokers that were now scattered over the wooden floor, rubbing the back of her neck with one hand. She was wearing her hair blonde and very short, eyes as green as Harry’s, and a “ _Disturbing House Elves”_ t-shirt with a pair of jeans.

“Good morning, Lupin” he greeted her, knowing how it irked her to be called by her married name. She narrowed her eyes.

“Good morning, cousin. And it’s Tonks. Do you want me to put Hermione against you throughout a long morning of shopping?” she threatened.

He sighed and dropped the paper on a sofa.

“I don’t think you could make the situation much worse than it is now” he observed.

She stood up and, while shaking off the dust from the back of her trousers, looked at him sideways.

“That bad?” she asked him.

“Worse…” he answered, dismissing his words with a gesture. “In fact, I believe that things are turning out quite well, and she’s comfortable with me. But if she hasn’t already gone running off asking for a divorce is because she hasn’t had the time”.

Tonks rolled her eyes.

“I don’t get it... ninety percent of the women would kill to be in Hermione’s place” she assured, sitting down on a couch.

“I married her because she was included in the other ten percent” Sirius specified, conjuring a clothes brush and handing it to his cousin, who brushed off the ashes that remained. “It’s been fifteen years since she last saw me. The only thing she remembers about me is that I was a former prisoner with the appearance of a murderer and long and dirty hair. Very enticing…”

“Come on, Sirius…” Tonks tried to cheer him up. “She’ll remember many more things, and she could remember much more if you…”

Sirius cut her off with a glare.

“No” he simply said.

“Oh, come on…”

“I said no, and if you so much as give her any ideas during your shopping trip, I’ll cast a spell so you can’t use our chimney” he threatened her.

“I see…” she said, leaning back against the couch and narrowing her eyes, “You’re willing to play with her the same part you play with Harry: some kind of paternal figure, giving her advice so she can rebuild her life with some young man her age, right? I really don’t know what is it you and Remus have with the age topic, but you’re a pair of paranoids” while she was saying that, she hit the teapot and threw it on the floor, breaking it with a loud crash. “Oh, I’m sorry”

“ _Fregotego. Reparo_ ” Sirius said with a flick of his wand. “You can’t accuse me of having prejudices about age because, unlike Remus, I didn’t have any problems with starting a relationship with Hermione three years ago. What I don’t find fair is to try to seduce someone that hasn’t seen me in ten years, that has spent the last years on a war trying to save her life and watching as all her friends are killed, and that besides all is in love with someone else” he finished with a bitter tone.

“What?!” Tonks stood up so quickly that she threw the pot on the floor again, breaking it once more, “Oh, I’m sorry. _Reparo_. What do you say? That Hermione is…?”

“Harry” Sirius just pointed out with a sigh of resignation.

“Oh my God”

 

 

* * *

 

Ignorant of what was going on downstairs; Hermione had thrown herself onto the big master bed and opened the sealing wax of the letter Sirius had given her with trembling hands. She pulled out a neat piece of parchment written with a tidy handwriting that was, without a doubt, hers. She noticed a sudden acceleration of her heart rate and started reading.

_“Hello, Hermione,_

_It feels so strange to be writing this for myself, but I think it is better that you know some things that only I can tell you. I’ve been trying to remember what I felt when I was fifteen, and how I saw things back then because that’s the only thing you and I have in common. From that point on, our lives, even though we are the same person, have been very different._

_The first thing I want to ask you is to not leave Sirius. I don’t know if you have feelings for another person, but give yourself some time. Try to get to know him a little before going to live somewhere else. When I was fifteen, that is, right before you saw Sirius die, my opinion (and yours) of him wasn’t that good. Something like a rebellious older brother of Harry, always trying to get him to break the rules and get in trouble. Sirius is not the same anymore. You changed him, in many ways._

_During these ten years, above all of us has been the threat of watching how your future became reality. The fact that you came and told us what had happened to you made losing the war a possibility. And we prepared. Oh, boy, we prepared. Especially Harry, who got obsessed with the idea of how Voldemort couldn’t beat us. In his brain there was only one premise: kill Voldemort. End the war. Save everyone’s lives._

_Sirius was very shocked after your ‘little journey to the past’. He was very glum for some days and, apparently, he was very impressed to see you. He always tells me that he promised himself that he’d prevent you (and therefore me) from living the nightmare you have lived. From then on, Sirius became very protective of me, and I didn’t have any choice but to force him into a little ‘chat’ so he stopped treating me as if I was made of butter and let me participate like the others in every mission._

_As they have probably told you, Harry, Ron and I (you) were admitted to Auror training. We prepared for five years, during which we worked with another group of qualified Aurors under Alastor Moody’s orders, among which there were Sirius, Remus, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Cordelia Winterthrop and Tonks. Especially during the last two years of training, we were sent on different missions with them, each training Auror assigned to a qualified Auror. I was under Sirius’ orders, Ron under Remus’ and Harry was directly mentored by Alastor. Ginny, who started training a year after us, was incorporated under Tonks’ orders. As I was saying, Sirius treated me with excessive care, and in the middle of a Death Eaters’ attempt to take the Ministry, seeing we were being surrounded, he threw an object at me to catch. It ended up being a Portkey, which brought me back immediately (and against my will) to Grimmauld Place. Fortunately, the brawl ended with several Death Eaters imprisoned in Azkaban, but I was furious. When Sirius came back, I knew that, after all, I was about to finish my training and he shouldn’t have taken me away from the battle. Alastor gave him a dressing-down, for which he really didn’t care a bit (that part of him, as you’ll see, his complete disregard of the rules and all that, remains intact), but nothing compared to the one I gave him. I asked him how the hell he thought I would learn to survive in a future that would possibly turn into reality (yours) if he didn’t let me face danger now that I have his support and the support of the rest of our teammates. And Sirius, irritated and in the heat of the discussion, explained to me why he had done it. I think it isn’t necessary for me to explain it to you._

_Sirius had stayed very impressed from you ‘little visit’. He confessed to me that he had seen you so broken that he had sworn to protect you from any suffering. And, when I was put under his tutelage, he dedicated body and soul to my training until I was exhausted. He kept on being the same Sirius as always, of course, but a lot more responsible and mature than the one you surely remember from ten years ago. And he showed me beyond expectations that his feelings for me were far more intense than the multiple love affairs he had been collecting during previous years._

_Sirius promised (and fulfilled) to never again take me away from a battle. There were very rough moments, but luckily we always emerged unharmed (mostly) from our confrontations against Death Eaters. Just when we got the nomination of qualified Aurors, we were very close to losing Ginny, who was kidnapped by the Malfoys, but we managed to raid the house and get her back. That episode was especially bloody, and Sirius and I were hurt, but we recovered fast._

_At that time, Harry had been nominated Head of our group of recently nominated Aurors, at the same level as Moody. Poor Harry poured himself completely to the cause, and his only obsession was to defeat Voldemort no matter what. You may find out some things that you won’t exactly like, but remember that Harry had to take the decisions quickly and that on his shoulders had always rested the responsibility of finishing He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. There was a moment in which I didn’t understand his decisions too well, but with time I ended up doing so. And, like me, everyone else._

_Harry is a hero, that cannot be forgotten, and sometimes heroes have to take paths that others can’t understand. Why am I telling you this? Because there was something between Harry and me, even though the others never found out, but his attitude, hard to understand, broke us apart definitively, despite remaining best friends. It was his way of dealing with Ginny’s kidnapping that broke us apart and, with time, I started getting closer to Sirius. I have to clarify that when we decided to make it public everyone reacted very well, including Harry. And Molly, which surprised me enormously. You already know that Molly and Sirius… well… they don’t click too much on some things. But Molly knew what Sirius felt (I have to warn you that Molly KNOWS EVERYTHING) and, moreover, has a special debt with him._

_Dad reacted somewhat different. Mom clicked immediately with Sirius, but dad… well, he didn’t like much the age gap. Dad and mom were terrified when I started my Auror training, and insisted on me thinking of taking a Muggle profession (guess which one? Deontology!). And if that was not enough, I tell them that I’m going to introduce them someone and I show up with a former convict nineteen years my senior. Well, I better not tell you what happened, but Sirius endured the storm with a lot of aplomb. I think that dad has come to accept my decision, although I don’t doubt that now that you’ve made your apparition, he’ll try to convince you to end the marriage. Well, that’s something that only you can decide._

_I think I’m rambling a little. Where was I? after Ginny’s kidnapping, Harry spent six months in Transylvania with Alastor and there they located the last Horcrux. With every Horcrux destroyed, the final battle could begin at any moment, and Harry decided to attack by surprise Voldemort’s Head Quarters. And he killed him._

_Most part of the Death Eaters are in Azkaban, but many remain free, in unknown locations, and there were others that said they were under the Imperius Curse. My (and yours) main enemies, now in Azkaban, are the Malfoys. Be careful with them. If they manage to escape, they’ll go after you._

_One last thing: Sirius won’t try to convince you to stay. He’s stubborn and proud, so he will beg for nothing. I think, as does he, that you should have complete freedom to decide what to do, but if a time comes in which you don’t know what to do, there’s an object that may interest you. Sirius has it, but he won’t give it to you, no matter how much I tried to convince him otherwise. It is a Pensieve._

_Sirius gave it to me and I decided to leave in it the memories that might be useful to you in case you want to know more things than the ones I can tell you. Sirius believes that letting you watch my memories counts as a way of pressuring you, and so he thinks it’s better if you don’t have access to it. But I believe that it’s unfair to hide information from you._

_Moments of confusion await you, so take it with calm. Dad and mom would have already received a letter explaining everything, because I couldn’t, wasn’t able to tell them in person. The poor ones already have enough with a witch for a daughter who fights in wars they’re not able to understand and who marries a wizard that’s almost twice her age._

_I feel very weird for writing this, because actually I’ll be the one reading it in a couple of days, only with my memory changed. The only thing I ask of you is that, decide what you decide, you keep your friendship with Sirius. He loves you very much._

_I’m not really sure how to say goodbye. So I better not._

_Hermione”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sticks head from behind a wall* Hi, lovelies! If you would be so kind as to lower your wands so I can explain why I am updating after soooo long, that would be wonderful. Okay? Is it safe now? *stops hiding* Right, so, I know you're all probably planning my funeral right now for making you wait a whole month (!!!) for this chapter, but I seriously couldn't update before now. University has been pretty hard lately, and right now I'm in the middle of my midterm exams, which I'll be done with by Saturday. Thank you all for your patience, and a million thanks to everyone that commented or left kudos. I hope you like the chapter. What do you think about Hermione's letter? Leave a comment and let me know ;)


	5. Chapter 4: There is no mother like your own

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> About to lose the second war against Voldemort, Hermione has an hour to go back to the past and prevent Sirius' death by falling through the Veil. But when she returns to her present, she finds everything very, very different...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing. Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling, and this work is all LaraG's, I'm only translating it for your enjoyment.

**Chapter 4: There is no mother like your own**

Hermione had a great time with Tonks that morning. Since she already had a basic wardrobe with the clothes she needed, she devoted herself to buying some clothes that were unnecessary, but that considerably lifted her spirits when she tried them on. A black cocktail dress with a low back, an ethereal evening gown, a pair of shoes lined in silk with vertiginous heels in which she positively couldn’t walk and, to end, a warm pyjama set with a Scottish pattern capable of turning off the most recalcitrant lust. Tonks teased her about the pyjamas until she cried tears of laughter.

“Do you really think that will stop the most famous seducer in the Auror force?”

“Come on, Tonks” Hermione grumbled, clicking her tongue.

They were sitting at Florean’s ice cream parlour, warming up under the warm winter sun. Hermione had already finished her ice cream while Tonks was passing the spoon through the walls of the cup, hurrying to the last drop, the metal chiming on the glass. Hermione threw her head back and closed her eyes. That sure was life.

“Hermione…”

“Hmm?”

“How are you?”

Hermione opened her eyes suddenly and looked at her partner. She leaned her head again against the backrest and looked straight ahead without fixing her gaze on anything in particular. Not even she knew the answer.

“I’m… I’m happy, Tonks, at one end. You don’t know how wonderful it is to see all of you alive. Really, you don’t know how happy that makes me…” she made a pause and closed her eyes again. “And then there’s the thing that any of you are the same ones I knew, although you are the same ones in one sense, you don’t share any memories with me” she sighed shortly. “I need every one of you to tell me what we’ve lived during these last ten years together, and that’s going to take time. I have to rebuild my friendship with every one of you. And then…” she doubted for a moment, “and then there’s Sirius…”

Tonks looked at her understandingly.

“Do you know what you’re going to do yet?”

Hermione shook her head.

“I guess you know a lot of things about us” she tested.

Tonks smiled.

“What do you want to know?” she asked.

Hermione doubted for a second.

“Why I married Sirius” she answered.

Tonks jumped a little.

“What do you think?” she asked, making a face. “You fell in love with Sirius, of course, and he with you. You should have seen the both of you: all day with those dopey faces, smiling idiotic grins as if you’d found the last Horcrux inside the Malfoys trash can. You kept the discretion while you kept it a secret, but after that, you were so obvious…”

Hermione covered her face with her hands.

“I can’t believe it…” she murmured.

“I can’t see why not” Tonks refuted. “After Harry killed Voldemort, you made it public, which led to the desperation of half the female population of the Wizarding World that saw how Sirius became unreachable”

“Only half?” Hermione asked with an ironic gesture.

“Well, the other half had already got him before he went out with you”

Hermione let out a snort.

“It was lucky that Sirius spent twelve years in Azkaban, after all” Tonks added. “God knows the havoc he could have wrecked in twelve years…”

Another snort came from Hermione.

“Oh, come on!” Tonks exclaimed, turning until she was facing Hermione. “Don’t tell me that you’re unaware of his brutal attractiveness”

Hermione shot her a murderous look.

“Come on, admit it. Sirius is the universal fantasy of the female mind”

“Sirius has nothing to do with me, we’re completely different” Hermione growled, blushing.

“No. The Sirius you met when you were thirteen didn’t have anything to do with you, because he was thirty-two, and was an adult, and you a teenager. But years have passed, and now you’re both adults, with many things in common, much more than you think” Tonks pointed out. “Why does it seem so surprising to you that you ended up marrying him?”

“Because he doesn’t match with anything I would have looked for in a husband!” Hermione answered vehemently to Tonks’ surprise. “I… for me a relationship must be based on friendship, partnership, mutual support…” she stopped for some seconds when she saw Tonks looking at her with irony, lifting an eyebrow. “No, no, no, noooo… don’t get me wrong… and passion, and desire, and all that, that is essential but is not the main thing, and I can hardly imagine myself sharing all the other things with Sirius” she added.

Tonks remained silent a while, taking in her friend’s words.

“Don’t think I don’t know what’s going on with you” said the Metamorphmagus with an understanding smile.

“And what’s going on with me?” Hermione asked, irked.

“Well, you’ve always despised superficiality; you’ve always been deep and transcendent on everything, even at fifteen. You don’t care about clothes, image, being attractive or not, and men attract you with what they have on their brains, or by the friendship you have with them” Tonks explained while Hermione blushed even more at seeing her friend dissecting her with some intuition. “And now you find yourself married to a man who you haven’t seen since you were a teenager, and who in that moment was light years away from you, adult, afar and unreachable, and you think it’s impossible that you share something solid. And you see him, so attractive, masculine and imposing that you think you married him only for that, and you’re letting yourself be carried away by panic. Am I right?” she asked her with a wry tone.

Hermione rested her head on the palm of her hand and stayed pensive for a couple of seconds. It was evident that Tonks knew her well.

“Besides, I have feelings for another person” Hermione completed. “But yes, it is possible that there lays part of the problem”

Tonks sighed deeply.

“If you were emotionally attached to someone on that alternative time you come from, it’s normal that you’re a mess, and you have the right to try and resume that story where you left it” Tonks supported her, understanding. “But I’d like you to not underestimate the relationship that ties you to Sirius because I can assure you that the reasons you had to fall in love with him don’t include that heart-stopping physique of his…”

Hermione let out a groan of ‘I don’t believe a thing’, but Tonks made an impatient gesture with her hand.

“You mustn’t think that for Sirius you’re still that same meticulous and perfectionist teenager. He was very impressed with you when you travelled to the past, ten years ago for us” she explained, lowering her voice a little. “I’ve always thought that it was then when he…”

Hermione rejected the thought with a gesture.

“Tonks, we were barely an hour together” she argued.

“Enough for him to notice the kind of woman you had become” insisted the Metamorphmagus, smiling. “And I assure you that that woman impressed him deeply”

Hermione breathed in slowly and closed her eyes to lean back again on the chair.

“And then, when you joined the Auror training, Sirius and you shared a lot of missions together, in a group or alone. You spent a lot of time in private, and I assure you that you became great friends” Tonks went on. She looked at her friend comprehensively and put a hand on her forearm. “You’re ten years late, Hermione. How many years did it take you to become unconditional friends with Harry and Ron?”

Hermione jumped at hearing Harry’s name.

“It was different… we were children, we spent all day together, at Hogwarts… we shared a lot of adventures, we took many risks…” she remembered.

Tonks nodded her head.

“You also shared many important moments with Sirius” she pointed out. “Hermione, I’m not trying to convince you of anything, it’s you who have to decide what you want to do. But, for the love of God, don’t misunderstand your relationship with Sirius. That wouldn’t be fair for you or for him” she finalized, also leaning back against her chair and letting the reddish sunrays of the afternoon light up the short blonde strands.

Hermione smiled and studied her with detail. Tonks must be about thirty-two, approximately, though she looked almost exactly the same as she did when she met her as a member of the Order, during the summer between her Fourth and Fifth Year. She seemed to know her so well, and although they didn’t share the memories of the last ten years, it was obvious that the ‘other’ Hermione had reached the same level of intimacy with ‘this’ Tonks as she had with the Metamorphmagus in her own past.

Hermione had spent most of her life having two boys as best friends, and although she had gotten along well with Ginny, the redhead was very different from her. Hermione and Tonks were more alike in many aspects, and since she had started Auror training, she had become a close friend very quickly. Until then she hadn’t yearned for a ‘female best friend’, but since Tonks filled that place, Hermione enjoyed the possibility of having someone to whom she could tell things she would have told neither Harry nor Ron. Seeing her dead body, cold and stiff, lying on the Great Hall, had been the last heartbreaking wound she had suffered, used as she already was to losses. That’s why, seeing her like that, alive and happy, made her remember that moment and filled her eyes with irritating tears.

“Huh, Hermione, what’s wrong?” Tonks asked her, upset at noticing that she was starting to cry. “Have I said something that…?”

Hermione shook her head.

“In my memories, you died a week ago, you know?” she clarified with a smile through the fat tears that were rolling down her cheeks.

Tonks smiled openly.

“That’s why you’re crying? Because you’ve opened your eyes and I’m still alive and bugging you?”

“You idiot…”

Tonks hugged her warmly and messed her hair.

“Don’t be silly. We’re alive! All of us! Your little trip to the past has been a total success and, as an added bonus, you’ve won the big prize in the shape of the biggest sex-symbol in the History of Magic. Why are you complaining?” she teased. “It could have been much worse… imagine you found yourself married to… Snape…” she insisted, narrowing her eyes.

Hermione shot her a nasty look.

“Or you to Percy Weasley”

Tonks gave a little jump and clutched her heart with one hand.

“ _Touché,_ Hermione,  _touché_ …”

 

* * *

 

 

Hermione passed Tonks’ invitation to have lunch with Remus and her. She owed her parents a visit, and she had already let them know with an owl in the morning that she was going to pay them a visit.

She took a cab from the Leaky Cauldron and arrived at the cosy little house her parents had in Chelsea. When she called at the door, a woman with white hair of about sixty opened it for her.

“Clarissa!” Hermione exclaimed, giving her a hug. Clarissa was the woman that had cleaned her parents’ house, prepared lunch, opened the door, answered the phone and supervised even the littlest detail for as long as Hermione could remember. Since Albert and Jane Granger spent almost all the day at their deontology clinic, Clarissa was the true soul of the Granger household.

“Oh! Hi, Hermione…. How is it that you’re so effusive today?” the maid asked her.

The girl shrugged her shoulders. Actually, in her own past, poor Clarissa had died three years ago, at the same attack as her parents. But Hermione decided not to think about those things more than it was necessary.

“Hermione!”

The unmistakable voice of her mother reached the entrance hall from the top of the stairs, joined with the vision of the body of a woman of about fifty that kept herself impeccable for her age. She had brown hair that reached down to her nape, with fairer strands around her temples, and wore an outfit that consisted of a pair of camel tone trousers and a white masculine shirt that screamed from the distance that they have been bought at the most exclusive boutiques in London. Hermione smiled. Her mother had always been so elegant… She soon felt herself being engulfed in a motherly hug, enjoying her mother cuddling her to her heart’s desire.

“Hermione, honey… we received your letter… we were so worried…”

Hermione felt as the tears betrayed her again, but this time she was not afraid to show them. Despite her parents being Muggles and feeling somehow excluded from her world of magic, spells and curses, they were the only two people with whom she had always let her emotions float freely. She hugged her mother with more affection, feeling how her love was comforting her.

“Hermione…”

The girl lifted her gaze and, behind her mother, saw a very tall man with light hair that was frizzy like a scourer, his face covered with freckles. She stepped back from her mother, who was starting to being carried away by the emotion and stared ahead at her father.

“Dad…”

Mr Granger stared at his daughter for a couple of seconds and felt a rush of pride flood over him. His daughter. His little girl. He had looked after her and protected her since she was a crying baby that only knew how to sleep and eat. And there she was, a woman that had lived through experiences that they couldn’t imagine even in their most terrifying nightmares. And, despite everything, there she still was.

Without saying anything, he slowly approached Hermione and wrapped her in the fiercest hug he had ever given her.

“I imagine you must be a mess and you wouldn’t want us to suffocate you with questions, right?” he asked her in a low voice. “Well, we’re here, Hermione… waiting for you to need us. We’re always here”

Hermione knew her father was telling the truth. Always, even though she, consciously or not, had opted to shield them a little from her life, telling them only the necessary things about Voldemort, the war and the Death Eaters, her parents had been there for her, supporting her no matter what. And she realised how much she had missed them.

“I know, dad…” she whispered in response. “Even if it doesn’t seem like it, I really know…”

 

* * *

 

 

A while and several litres of tears later, Hermione was chatting animatedly with her parents while the three of them were enjoying a roast beef with potatoes and onion sauce prepared for the occasion by Clarissa. Mr and Mrs Granger looked with approval at the great appetite her daughter displayed while cleaning the plate, eating even the last crumb that laid in the same.

“Well, daughter… now that you come from a different time in which Sirius passed away, unfortunately of course, when you were fifteen… they’ll give you an annulment without a problem, right?”

“Albert!”

“But darling, after all, they don’t know each other at all… it wouldn’t make sense for Hermione to waste her time trying to know him to decide if she likes him or not… because she won’t, right, child?”

“You see…” Hermione’s mother narrowed her eyes and looked threateningly at her husband; “I won’t repeat myself again. I don’t want to hear another word about Hermione’s marriage”

“Actually, me neither” replied her father with an innocent face. “But I sure would like to hear about her divorce…”

“Albert…” Mrs Granger interrupted him, her patience slowly thinning.

“It’s not that I have anything against Sirius” quickly clarified Mr Granger, looking at Hermione understandingly. “Although with that name…” he quickly stopped himself when he caught the murderous look of his wife, “but anyway, in the end, he didn’t choose it, we have to be tolerant. That he spent twelve years locked away in a maximum security prison also doesn’t have to…”

“Albert!” threatened Jane Granger. “I don’t want to hear another insult coming from you attached to Sirius’ name”

“But Jane… we wanted the best for our daughter… he’s a wizard! I’m sure he’s put a magic potion on her food or something of the like to convince her to marry him!”

“Dad, I believe that the ones with the magic potion are Asterix and Obelix” teased Hermione doubling over with laughter.

“Okay, or maybe he hypnotized you! Asterix and Obelix don’t do that, huh? I bet he swung a pendulum in front of your eyes and made you believe that he was some kind of charity sister…”

“No, that’s more like something you’d find in a Woody Allen movie” his wife intervened, repressing a smile.

“But there is one curse of yours that leaves you like hypnotized, right honey?” Mr Granger charged again. “Something like the  _Republicus_ curse…” Hermione's father tried to remember.

“The  _Imperius_ curse” Hermione corrected, unable to stop laughing.

“Yes, I knew it was something like that” Albert Granger continued. “In the end, he was prosecuted for casting that curse on a bunch of people that were near the entrance of the Tube… what was it called, the  _Rigor mortis_  or something like that…”

“ _Avada kedavra_ ” rectified Hermione on the verge of an attack. “Dad, Sirius was declared innocent when it was discovered that it had been his friend Peter who killed all those Mu… not magical people” the girl preferred not to use the term Muggle in front of her parents because she found it had some pejorative meaning.

“Alright, it wasn’t him, but it was a friend of his, so it’s the same thing” concluded Hermione's father. “Honey, there’s nothing tying you to that… ex-convict. Sure, you married him, but now that you come from a different time-and-space line and you haven’t seen him since you were fifteen, it’s your chance to free yourself from that old geezer…”

Hermione sighed deeply. She poured herself a cup of tea Clarissa had brought and fixed her gaze on the bottom of the cup while stirring its content with parsimony.

“Dad,” she said, staring at her interlocutor with a look of resignation, “Sirius already warned me about you not appreciating him much”

“Of course, trying to create discord amongst us… I told you so…”

“Dad…” Hermione interrupted, looking at him with a supplicant look that left him defenceless. “As I already explained, on the timeline I come from, Sirius died ten years ago… and you three years ago…” that last bit she said it in a low voice and with a lump in her throat. “And most of my friends died, too. I still haven’t been able to truly enjoy all of this because I still haven’t fully assimilated it. Please, let me simply be happy for a while, without having to think about anything else, okay?”

Her father seemed to have a sudden interest in the cup of tea in front of him. He gave his wife a sideways look; she subtly nodded her head at him, and he sighed.

“Alright, you win” he admitted. “I promise not to meddle in your business anymore…”

Hermione hugged him with eagerness.

“…for the time being… finished her father, earning a slap on the back of his neck from his wife.

 

* * *

 

 

On the afternoon, Hermione went out with her mother to a café on the London mall that, according to Mrs Granger, they frequented once in a while, when they went shopping together.

“You and I went shopping?” Hermione asked surprised. Mrs Granger had always tried to get Hermione to pay a little more attention to her image, but seeing as her daughter completely ignored anything to do with clothes and aesthetics, she had finally given up.

“Yes, although not that often” her mother answered. “The last thing we bought together was one of those marvellous nightgowns you adore” she added with the intention of leading the conversation towards the topic of ‘Sirius’.

Hermione blushed to the knees.

“I… I went with you to buy a nightgown?” she stuttered.

Her mother leaned towards her, shortening the distance between them across the table.

“With a matching robe” she added as if she was confessing that the crime had an aggravation. “And now let’s leave aside everything that is not of importance to us and focus on what is: you travel to the past when you’re about to lose a war and when you come back, not only you’ve won it, but you’re also married… and with an extremely handsome man, too. Honey, I know you very well. You must be a bundle of nerves right now” she finished.

Hermione relaxed for the first time since the day before.

“Mom, I’m about to have a breakdown” she admitted. “It’s just that I don’t understand how I could have possibly fallen in love with Sirius”

Her mother raised an eyebrow, incredulous.

“What I don’t understand is how you could have possibly resisted”

“Mom!”

Mrs Granger waved her hand, silencing her daughter.

“As soon as I met Sirius I realised a lot of things: first, that even though there was a time when I completely gave up on you and figured you’d end up marrying some subversive wizard that leads any impossible cause, like that one of yours about the freedom of domestic dwarves…”

“House-elves” Hermione pointed out with an irked face.

“Yes, that,” her mother said. “Well, to my delight, you showed up with a man… well, I can’t even begin to describe him. Handsome, elegant, obviously in love with you, attentive to you at all times, a man that would protect you from those crazy wizards you fight against, and that would protect you with his life without a doubt… anyway, I won’t go on or I’ll burst into tears of happiness again”

“What do you mean, again?” Hermione asked incredulously.

“Oh, Hermione, meeting Sirius meant knowing that my daughter was in good hands…” Mrs Granger explained with a deep sigh. “It was as if you had shown up with George Clooney, but way more handsome, and certainly more faithful, no doubt… the problem was your father, that died from jealousy just by meeting him”

“C’mon, mom…” Hermione reproached. “Dad’s only worried about the age gap…”

“Yes, and because next to Sirius he finds himself at a disadvantage” her mother replied. “C’mon Hermione… I know your father, and I know what goes on in his head. To him, you’re his little girl, and he would have never been okay with anyone you would have chosen to marry, but on top of that you showed up with Sirius… attractive, with a huge fortune, friends with your best friend’s parents… the kind of man that awakens envy between his male congeners. Besides, you were so obviously in love with him that your father hated Sirius the moment he saw him. You had to see yourself…” Mrs Granger smiled warmly at her daughter; “you were looking at him practically fascinated. Here I was thinking that you were a genius on your studies but that your personal life was going to be a disaster, and you give me the surprise of my life choosing the best man that surely crossed yours”

Hermione took a sip from the juice she was drinking, unable to digest all her mother’s words. That meant that she had really been in love with Sirius. Or at least it seemed so. And, although she and her mother were very different, there was no doubt that she knew her well.

Seeing her at a loss of words, Hermione’s mother smiled and slightly pinched her cheek.

“I know what you’re thinking, Hermione. Don’t forget that I’m your mother, though you seem to do that sometimes” she reproached her fondly.

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked surprised by the sudden reproachful tone.

Mrs Granger took a sip from her tea.

“Ever since you left for Hogwarts, you drifted apart from us a little” she explained. “Don’t think that I’m blaming you for anything or something like that, but I believe that you always thought that us, for being muffles…”

“Muggles” Hermione managed to correct.

“Yes, that…” Mrs Granger agreed with a gesture. “You thought that we wouldn’t be able to understand some things, or that we would be terribly frightened if we knew that you fought against those scavengers…”

“Death Eaters” Hermione interrupted again, her voice turning quieter by the second.

“Oh, yes, sorry, your father and I always get confused by the terms” clarified the dentist. “The thing is that you left us aside a bit, although with the good intention of protecting us, for us not to worry about you, but Hermione, we’re your parents, and you’re the most important thing to us, so it’s inevitable to worry. No matter how much you hid, we’ve always known to read between the lines, when we got your letters, or seeing beyond that impassive expression you put on sometimes. And I assure you that I perfectly know what worries you about your wedding to Sirius”

“And that is…?” Hermione encouraged her, curious.

“Sirius is the kind of man into whose arms most women would fall without a doubt” pronounced her mother.

“And…?” Hermione asked again.

“Honey, you’re not like most women. Just thinking that you could be like that teammate of yours… Cordelia was it, right?”

“I have no idea,” Hermione said intrigued.

“Well, or like those schoolmates of yours from Hogwarts, Lavender and Par… Par…”

“Parvati”

“That one! Well, you’re probably terrified for having fallen in love with the kind of man who would make any woman fall in love with him. Too perfect. Actually, it never seemed to me that you had many things in common, although you obviously had them because I’ve always noticed a very special complicity between you two. And I’m also sure that you’re also wondering what the hell he saw in you”

“Mom!” Hermione protested indignantly.

“Hey, wait, that I’m perfectly aware of what Sirius saw in you. I’m just saying that you carry a sense of insecurity since you were a kid and that you don’t trust in your attractiveness. The only impressive clothes of yours I’ve seen are the ones you put on… to sleep” she finished with a mischievous smile.

“I’m not insecure” Hermione rebated angry and as red as a tomato at her mother’s insinuation.

“Oh, yes you are little one…” Mrs Granger contradicted her. “Not when it comes to capability, intelligence or braveness, but yes when it comes to your personal appeal. I can perfectly see the beautiful and captivating woman, but you can’t. And I assure you that Sirius sees the same thing as I do. I don’t know what he’s told you but… Hermione… to Sirius, there isn’t, nor there will be another woman that isn’t you”

Hermione felt her stomach clenching suddenly. Sirius was extremely kind to her, but a little cold. He didn’t give the sensation, of course, of being especially in love with her, and it even seemed as if he approved of her insinuations of breaking off the marriage. But what her mother was telling her… she placed her elbows on both sides of her cup and rested her head on her hands.

“Thanks, mom…” she sighed. “You’re being really helpful…”

 

* * *

 

 

Hermione returned home by the Floo network, using the chimney at the Leaking Cauldron, just as Sirius had indicated. She wasn’t familiar with the house yet, and it was prudent to wait a few more days before Apparating without problems. She landed in the comfy living room in an undignified way, and when she was dusting off the ashes from her jeans the Animagus showed up, alerted by the noise.

“Oh, hey, how was your day?” he asked, offering a hand and helping her up to her feet.

“Tiresome” Hermione simply answered with a sigh. “But the truth is that I had a great time”

“And you’ve done some shopping, I see” Sirius commented with a smile seeing the bags that had fallen with her through the chimney. “How’s your mother?”

Hermione narrowed her eyes, considering the question.

“You were right, she really appreciates you. My father, not much”

Sirius laughed.

“I told you so. Well, who are you going to see now?” he bluntly asked.

Hermione looked at him doubtfully.

“Now? Well, I didn’t have anything planned, I was thinking of having dinner here” she explained, thinking that maybe Sirius had made plans to have dinner with someone and had assumed that she had done the same. She was surprised by feeling a little lonely all of a sudden.

“Perfect” he answered with a smile. “Well, if you don’t have any plans, let me take you out for dinner” he proposed, without there being a doubt of her saying no.

“Huh? Going out for dinner the both of us, alone?” she inquired surprised.

Sirius looked at her with mirth.

“Um, yes, that was the plan. Does the idea bore you? Or are you afraid of me harassing you?” he joked. By his tone, it was obvious that Hermione’s absurd questions and worries amused him.

She blushed to the core.

“Nnnn… no… of course not” she quickly said. In the end, she wished with all her might to get to really know this enigmatic Sirius, but at the same time, when she thought of spending time alone with him, she felt that strange weight on her stomach. The same she felt when she thought of seeing Harry again.

“Great, then we’ll leave in an hour. It’s a restaurant we used to go frequently, you loved it. Which doesn’t mean that you will hate it now, of course. Rest a little and I’ll wake you five minutes before the hour, alright?”

Hermione nodded without saying a word. Dinner alone with Sirius... Please, could someone stop that mad moth that flew again and again around her stomach?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there, lovelies! Here's a new chapter for all of you, a little longer than the other ones I've uploaded so far. I particularly love this chapter, the wonderful author that is LaraG has a way of writing these characters while staying loyal to their canon characterizations. A million thank yous to all of you who have commented or left kudos on this story, you have no idea how excited I get from knowing that there are people following this. Anyways, leave your thoughts on the new chapter! It's always nice to hear your opinions or guesses as to what would happen next. Until next chapter, lovelies!


	6. Chapter 5: A dog is a man's best friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> About to lose the second war against Voldemort, Hermione has an hour to go back to the past and prevent Sirius' death by falling through the Veil. But when she returns to her present, she finds everything very, very different...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing. Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling, and this work is all LaraG's, I'm only translating it for your enjoyment.

**Chapter 5: A dog is a man’s best friend**

Hermione woke up when she heard soft knocking on her bedroom’s door, which opened slightly to give way to Sirius’ voice.

“Hermione, it’s time to leave. Remember that is a Muggle restaurant. I’ll wait for you downstairs”

The girl quickly sat up. Damn, the temporary Time Turner had left her so exhausted that she didn’t do anything but sleep. She rubbed her eyes and looked down. She had fallen asleep with the jeans and the t-shirt, and she hadn’t even removed her shoes.

She got up and went to the bathroom to get ready. Her reflection in the mirror stared back at her with a deplorable look: her hair a complete mess and the marks of the bedclothes on her face, her eyes swollen and a face so tired she could star on a mattress advertisement.

“And now, how do I fix this?” she said aloud.

“Pfff, there are some things that are impossible to fix” a very rude voice answered her.

Hermione got startled and twirled around, taking off her wand from the back pocket of her jeans. Damn, what an Auror she was if she didn’t realize someone was spying on her. But after checking the whole bathroom, she didn’t find any signs of anyone else being there.

“Hmm, it’s obvious that you’re not Hermione, right? Although you do look a lot like her” the voice said again in the same tone as before.

Hermione realized that the words came from the mirror, and when she got closer she noticed that in the baroque decoration of the frame you could make out the features of a face.

“You’re a magical mirror” it was more an affirmation than a question.

“I’m more than that” answered the magical mirror with an offended tone. “Allow me to introduce myself: I’m Boris, the best _stylist coach_ of the entire wizarding world”

“The best what?” asked Hermione, thinking that she had heard wrong.

“I’m an image advisor, darling” the mirror answered with an air of superiority while two golden scrolls of the frame lifted, mimicking the effect of a pair of raised eyebrows. “A gift from the lovely and exquisite mother of Hermione”

“I am Hermione” she clarified with a snort. “It’s just that I come from an alternate timeline and thus I don’t know anything about what happened on these last past ten years”

The two top angles of the mirror hunched as if they were the shoulders of someone absolutely crestfallen.

“Oh, no… you mean that we’re going back ten years… after everything I have taught you?” Boris groaned in dismay.

“Everything you’ve taught me?” Hermione asked; her eyes big lie plates. “Come on… you pretend to make me believe that I listened to you when it came to my way of dressing and all that?”

“After two years of hard work, I had managed to polish you a little, darling” the mirror grumbled, narrowing what seemed to be his eyes. “At least you stopped sleeping in those awful stretched shirts…”

“Are you telling me that the silk nightgowns were your idea?” Hermione asked outraged. “I thought so that they weren’t my thing!”

“Hey, hey, hey…” added the irked mirror, “an image advisor that prides itself never imposes: it simply suggests, proposes, shows… and it is the advised who decides, so don’t blame me for anything. I suggested that you tried with a wonderful silk nightgown, in a tone that matched that fantastic skin of yours that you don’t deserve, long to the ankles and indecently low-cut… and would you see the result it had” he finished, raising a single ‘eyebrow‘ and speaking in a suggestive voice.

“What do you mean?” Hermione thought the worst.

“I positively know that Sirius was enthused by it” Boris confessed in a hushed voice. “And with reason, you were impressive” he complimented her satisfied. “Ah… my first success with your styling... how happy I felt… I must say that for a magical mirror as myself, someone as lacking as style, glamour and magnetism as you is an exciting challenge, but also an enormous nuisance, to be honest”

Hermione started to feel irritated.

“And, where exactly lies my lack of… style, glamour and magnetism?” she asked in a sweet voice. “Or is it just that I lack attractiveness?”

“Darling, every woman has attractiveness, although some hide it more than others…” Boris explained smugly. “You look terribly like your mother, but she… mmmm… she’s always perfect…”

“And I?” tried Hermione with the same smooth tone. “I suppose I’m a disaster 24/7, right?”

The mirror puffed.

“Come on, look at you,” he said patiently. “That hair… you could have a marvellous fall of curls or a perfectly straight mane if only you’d listen to me and went to “ _Mortimer & Brush_”… they do wonders with the most rebellious hair! And the makeup…”

“I almost never wear makeup” Hermione interrupted him with a smile the most blood-thirsty Death Eater would envy.

“And there’s the problem” Boris pointed out rolling his eyes; “a woman is never spectacular if she doesn’t wear makeup… the secret is to make it look as if she’s not wearing any… you have to apply the right products, no more no less… and with that impeccable skin that you have… it’s a heresy you always go about with a washed face!”

“And let’s not talk about the clothes…” Hermione suggested.

“Pfff…” the mirror snorted without realizing that he was putting the noose around his neck himself; “although you’re not a _top model_ , you do have a nice body, you’re tall and, as I said before, you have a good foundation… but unfortunately, you dress as if you worked in a dumpster… those awful jeans, _t-shirts_ …” Boris spewed the word t-shirts with more disgust than if it had been the Death Eaters’ uniform. “If only you listened to me sometimes and played more with the complements, for example… you’re no feminine at all, darling… I’m sure Sirius would be delighted if you emphasized more your charm… the poor man must sometimes feel a little uncomfortable when you go around looking like a stevedore…” Boris was getting more and more excited by the minute while his sculpted features in the wood moved along his words, without noticing the small vein that had started twitching on Hermione’s temple.

“Hey… and are you… always… how do I say it, there? Able to talk and listen to what happens around you?” she asked in an innocent voice.

“If I’m always in my animated form? No, if you point at me with your wand and say the hibernating charm I turn into a normal mirror. It’s ‘ _incitamentum_ ’ to go back to my magical state and ‘ _edormio_ ’ to hibernate me” the mirror explained jovially.

Hermione smiled an evil smile and pointed her wand towards Boris.

“But you wouldn’t think… you wouldn’t dare… Hermione, you need me now! You can’t go out like that, you look horrible! Sirius…!” he whined when he realized his owner’s intentions.

“ _Edormio_ ” Hermione vocalized towards the mirror. Immediately, the baroque golden moulding turned into a straight-lined frame of the purest minimalistic style.

 

* * *

 

 

Five minutes later, Hermione walked down the enormous staircase towards the hall. She had kept the jeans on but changed into a more suggestive blouse, with a silver pendant she had found in one of the drawers of her bedroom. She had tied her hair in a ponytail and, by all makeup, had washed her face with water and soap.

When she reached the living room Sirius was stoking the fire with a poker, his back to her. Hearing her come in, he turned around and Hermione stifled a shocked expression. He was utterly handsome; with a casual but extremely elegant suit that made Hermione suddenly feel like a raggedy beggar.

“Eh… I think I should go up to put on something more… less… uh…” she stuttered, her blush up to her brows.

Sirius looked at her from head to toe. If he found her attire inappropriate or thought she was the sexiest woman on Earth, his face didn’t show it.

“No way! They aren’t strict at all about clothing at this restaurant. You can go however you want and they won’t say a word. As long as it is decent, wow…” he checked something that looked like a wristwatch. “Come on, or we’ll be late.”

He began to walk towards the room’s door without so much as looking at her. Hermione was a little conflicted because frustrated as she was after bearing Boris’ scolding, she expected at least some kind of flattering phrase, those of the like of ‘but woman, if you look great!’. Really, Sirius’ behaviour clashed a little with what Tonks and her mother had told her. She turned to walk out of the room, her self-esteem on the floor when she felt Sirius stop beside her. She looked at him and saw he was offering her his arm.

“Thank you for going out for dinner with me,” Sirius told her with a smile capable of melting the entire South Pole. “Whenever we were free on a Saturday, we went out for dinner together. I would have missed you terribly, dining tonight without you” he admitted in the same tone of voice he would have used to confess a little bit of juvenile mischief to Professor McGonagall.

She accepted his proffered arm and smiled back at him.

“Are you sure it’s not necessary for me to change into something more elegant?” she asked shyly.

Sirius stared at her dumbfounded.

“You are always perfect” he declared. “Trust me, you don’t need anything else”.

Hermione felt again that warm sensation that travelled all the way down her spine and blushed softly. That didn’t go unnoticed to Sirius: he looked at her with an enigmatic smile and together they went out to the house’s garden where, with Sirius’ help, the apparated to a discreet place near the restaurant’s entrance.

 

* * *

 

 

It was being a fantastic evening, she had to admit. The restaurant was lovely, big but cosy, and lit perfectly to achieve an intimate ambience without it being sickly sweet. The _ma_ _î_ _tre_ had recognized them when they came in and had welcomed them warmly and without servility.

“Oh, Mr and Mrs black, it’s always a pleasure to have you around here” he had said with a nod while conducting them to a table that was obviously one of the most requested.

He had treated Hermione with an overwhelming excellence; and Sirius with a mixture of admiration, respect and endless devotion.

“Is he gay?” Hermione asked Sirius in a whisper, poking her head from over the restaurant’s baroque menu.

Sirius gave her a solemn look.

“He’s a wizard” he answered as if he was scolding a small child; “he was used by Death Eaters that put him under the Imperius Curse and I presented the evidence to exculpate him. From then on, he partially abandoned the magical world and when he started working here he sent us an invitation. And since then…” he finished, returning his gaze to the menu.

“Oh” Hermione managed to mutter, visibly speechless.

“Besides, I think he likes you” Sirius added without looking at her.

“Huh?! What do you say?” Hermione murmured, all her blood flooding her cheeks. She looked at Sirius, but he was trying to conceal a smile, unsuccessfully. “You’re kidding me, right? Do I seem to you that much unattractive to be liked by the _ma_ _î_ _tre_?”

Sirius sobered up immediately and shot her an intense look. She felt suddenly self-conscious and lowered her eyes.

“Have you gone mad?” he asked her in a slightly rough way. “I find you attractive, young and charming enough to be liked by anyone, where is this coming from? Concretely, I’ve always suspected that our dear Algernon finds you too attractive, young and charming to my liking, but you loved this place and we came here often.”

“Algernon?” Hermione managed to ask in a thin voice.

“Algernon Moncrieff, the _ma_ _î_ _tre_ ” Sirius clarified, still annoyed. “And now explain to me what the hell is going on with you. I don’t know what the _other_ Hermione could have written to you in her letter, but there’s no way she accuses me of not finding you attractive.”

Hermione felt a burning heat on her cheeks. She couldn’t talk to Sirius about the conversation she’d had with her mother because that meant she’d had to admit to that weakness of hers. But she could…

“I’ve met Boris” she murmured, a little embarrassed.

Sirius smacked his forehead.

“Uff… I completely forgot to put him to sleep” he sighed. “Your mother gave him to you two years ago, and although he has his moments, and you loved to make him suffer, he does lack a complete sense of tact” he confessed, looking closely into Hermione’s eyes. “He wouldn’t have said anything inconvenient, right?”

Hermione turned red again and shook her head.

“Well, he’s a bit rude, but I’ve given him a little lesson” she admitted with a guilty smile. “I’ve left him in hibernation”

Sirius let out a loud burst of laughter.

“Well done… your mother found Boris one afternoon when she was out shopping with you at Diagon Alley and had him at her house for a long time. But, finally, she decided you needed him more than her…” Sirius let out a snort that made it pretty clear that he didn’t share Mrs Granger’s opinion; “and, although I must admit that poor Boris didn’t know what was waiting for him when he came home, he is an insufferable prig. Anyways, I’ve witnessed some dialectic battles between the two of you, and I can assure you that you usually win in a crushing manner”

“So, you don’t think I need an image advisor?” without realizing it, Hermione said the phrase aloud.

Sirius looked at her as if he was looking at Hagrid wearing a classical ballet tutu.

“Heavens, no!” he exclaimed, taking then a sip of the wine they have already served them as if he had choked on something. “Has the trip through time softened your brain?”

“Boris said I was little feminine” Hermione groaned burying her face behind the menu.

A few seconds went by and, noticing that Sirius wasn’t answering, Hermione lifted her face again. Her heart skipped a beat. Sirius was looking at her with an unmistakable expression in those deep grey eyes. It seemed that he was thinking about something, but at the same time, there was a telltale charge of desire in his stare. It was the first time she saw Sirius looking at her like a woman… _his_ woman.

“Hermione” he started with his voice slightly rough. “I assure you that your femininity is something that could never be doubted. And now, if you want me to keep on behaving like a gentleman, let’s drop the subject and focus on the menu because, or your dear Algernon is making his way towards here with the good intention of asking what are we going to have to drink, or he has decided to declare his love for you” he finished with a growl.

 

* * *

 

 

The rest of dinner went by with an incredible speed to Hermione, who was having a great time. Sirius was a natural conversationalist, apart from exuding a charm that was hard to resist. He was an adulator without being fastidious, affectionate without being cloying and funny without being irksome or annoying. Hermione realised, when they brought over their desserts, that two hours had passed in what she thought had been five minutes. She was feeling comfortable and relaxed and hadn’t stopped laughing while Sirius told her millions of anecdotes about the Marauders.

“I can’t believe that about Remus, you’re lying” she decided, shaking her head. “I’m convinced that he was the only decent one amongst you… with how calm and quiet he is…”

“Sure, and that tragic aura he has, poor thing…” Sirius explained wryly. “You see: Remus was like a time bomb. On one hand, he had that fragile, tender and vulnerable image, the product of each full moon’s convalescence. And, on the other hand, he had that concealed aggressiveness of the wolf, that boundless passion that pulsated under the lamb’s skin… I assure you that girls sighed like windmills when he walked by… while James and I had to come up with the most bewildering strategies to get a girl to go out with us, Remus had them falling into his arms without even batting an eyelash, that lucky wolf full of fleas” he finished, concealing a smile that showed the affection he felt towards the werewolf. “The whole school thought that James and I were the Heartbreakers, but I swear that Remus beat us to it…”

Hermione laughed out loud. The two glasses of wine she had drunk had given her cheeks a soft pink tone and an intense gleam in her eyes. Sirius looked away and coughed lightly. He found Hermione too attractive that night for his mental health.

“It’s true that Remus was the most reluctant to play crude pranks on the Slytherins, but he broke enough hearts at Hogwarts to fill St Mungo’s cardiology ward”

“And you and James, a pair of saints, surely”

“Let’s not exaggerate… but nothing when compared to old Lupin”

“Do I need to remind you that you’re the same age?”

“But he carries it much worse than me… you should have seen what it took poor Tonks to get him to marry her… he said… wait, what was it he said? That he was too old, poor…”

“…and dangerous” Hermione finished for him with a sad smile.

Sirius looked back at her with a smile of his own.

“So he said the same? In your, err, time? That cub repeats himself…” he concluded. “But Tonks imposed her good sense and managed to make him admit that he’s crazy for her… although he’s so afraid of hurting her that he’s built himself an armour-clad basement where he locks himself every full moon night to go through the transformation without putting her in danger”

“And what about the Wolfsbane Potion?” Hermione asked curiously.

“He uses that, also…” Sirius answered with a vague gesture. “In Tonks’ words, he drinks a carboy of the potion before going down into the basement and keeping himself under seven locks and keys. And, since it’s Tonks who has to go and open the door for him the following day, she gets lost with so many keys and…”

Hermione was dying of laughter at the thought of the werewolf, exhausted and famished, patiently waiting for a clumsy Nymphadora to find the correct key to each lock and free him from his confinement, almost close to noon.

“Well, when they have children, they can be the ones who free their father” Hermione joked.

But Sirius turned abruptly solemn and didn’t answer. He placed his cutlery on top of the dessert plate with his gaze fixed on them, and brusquely lifted it to ask:

“Shall we have some coffee?”

 

* * *

 

 

When they returned home, already after midnight, Hermione was exhausted but euphoric. She had had an excellent time, found herself very comfortable around Sirius, and wouldn’t have minded repeating the dinner every night. Sirius walked her to the bottom of the stairs. He held her shoulders and placed a kiss on her forehead.

“Well, I’m retiring to my room,” he said his goodbyes. “I hope you sleep well and that you dream of… well, that you dream of whatever you want” he said with a suggestive smile. “If you have nightmares and need a shoulder to cry on, you know where to find me”

“It’s impossible for me to have nightmares tonight, I’ve had too much fun” Hermione answered him, ascending a couple of steps to match Sirius’ height. She kissed his cheek and walked to her bedroom, truly happy and relaxed for the first time into the wee so far.

But some hours later, Hermione was going to eat her words. She had nightmares all night long, about waking up next to Remus in Dumbledore’s office and finding out that all that had been nothing but a dream and that all her friends were really dead. There was no temporary time-turner, Tonks’ body was still cold and livid in the Great Hall, and that Sirius’ body remained lost on the other side of the veil. And Harry… he wouldn’t be coming back from an undignified death by Voldemort’s hands.

She didn’t realise, asleep as she was, that she was moaning and talking out loud, terrified, until she woke up to a pair of tender arms that helped her up and cradled her, trying to calm her down. The anguish gradually lost the grip it had on her as she felt the warm and strong body that held her protectively.

“Shhh… Hermione, it’s alright, it’s fine now… you’re dreaming, wake up!”

She opened her eyes and saw that she had her chin resting on Sirius’ shoulder, while he had his arms wrapped around her in an attempt to infuse her tranquillity. His mere presence was comforting enough. She stayed a few minutes like that, shaking against Sirius while convincing herself that the nightmare was simply that, a nightmare. He soothed her with reassuring words, telling her that everything was going fine, that he was there with her and that he wasn’t leaving her. She moved back a little from him and gave him a look, still somewhat sleepy.

“Was I shouting?” she asked him.

“You were talking out loud, and seemed to be having a rough time” he clarified. “I’ve placed an intercom spell between your room and mine, in case something happened to you… if you scream or shout for help, I’ll hear you. In fact, it was Moody’s idea, for security matters, but look how it’s ended up being useful”

Hermione looked at him and smiled a little. Sirius was wearing an impeccable pair of sand coloured pyjamas with his embroidered initials, which looked overwhelmingly masculine on him.

“You told me I used to have nightmares…”

Sirius nodded.

“Yes, just like now. I’ve had to wake you up many times when you dreamt of your predictions coming true and of every one of us was dead” he explained, fixing her tousled hair.

Hermione sighed.

“That was it. I went back to the moment in which…”

But Sirius didn’t let her finish.

“I can imagine. Listen, it’s possible that you keep having these nightmares, but you have to assimilate the fact that that alternate universe no longer exists, and that all of us are alive and you can be happy again” he explained while softly caressing her chin. “Why don’t you start taking a Sleeping Draught before going to bed from now on?” he suggested.

Hermione seemed to consider it for a moment, but then she shook her head.

“No, it’s better if I get over it on my own. I don’t need Sleeping Draughts”

Sirius smiled and got up from the bed, bopping her nose affectionately. Immediately, she felt vulnerable and unprotected again, but forced herself to suppress the urge of asking him to stay and sleep with her.

“That’s fine with me… that way I can seize the opportunity to come and comfort you every night”

“Sirius!”

“Would you rather it was Harry?”

“SIRIUS!”

“Fine, fine, I see you’re perfectly fine now,” he said laughing. “Try to go to sleep again, and don’t worry about the nightmares. I’ll be listening from downstairs” Sirius walked towards the bedroom’s door and raised his hand in a parting gesture without turning back to her.

“Sirius…”

At Hermione’s tone, he turned around and looked at her curiously.

“Thank you… for everything,” she said with a grateful smile. “I have to admit, you’ve got great comforting skills”

Sirius raised an eyebrow at her.

“So, next time… I shouldn’t call Harry?”

Hermione threw the magical alarm clock at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Look who's back after three months of not updating? I know, I know, I owe you a thousand apologies, and even that wouldn't be enough. What can I say? Real life had me busy, between finals and then preparing for a super important test, time just flew by and I couldn't find the time to sit and work on this. Even now, I'm finishing this at three in the morning because waiting until actual morning would be a sin after all the time I've had you waiting.  
> I hope you like this chapter, it has a lot of Sirius&Hermione interaction so it's kind of a treat for all of you. I'm really sorry for those of you who have been following this since the beginning and to whom the wait has been worse. And to those of you who are just joining us, welcome! I solemnly swear I'll finish this and do everything within my power to update more quickly.  
> Every comment and/or kudos left are immensely welcome, It always makes me happy to know you are enjoying reading this story as much as I did when I read it and now that I'm translating it for you.  
> Until next time, lovelies! I'll start working on the next chapter right away.


	7. Chapter 6: He who loves best, never fogets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> About to lose the second war against Voldemort, Hermione has an hour to go back to the past and prevent Sirius' death by falling through the Veil. But when she returns to her present, she finds everything very, very different...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing. Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling, and this work is all LaraG's, I'm only translating it for your enjoyment.

 

**Chapter 6: He who loves well, never forgets**

In the morning, Hermione woke up well rested, without having had any more nightmares. She took a quick shower, shooting side-ways glances towards the magical mirror with a slight feeling of guilt, and went down to the dining room, hoping to find Sirius there. But the room was deserted, although the table was set and the breakfast was warm.

She quickly drank a coffee and decided to go and find Sirius to have breakfast together. She didn’t know the entire house, but she knew there was a library the both of them used as an office and thought that Sirius might be there. When she got to the door, she heard two voices discussing something. Neither one of them raised their tone, but it was obvious that one of them, the one speaking with evident worry and some annoyance, was Sirius. Not wanting to be indiscreet, she knocked softly on the door and walked in.

“Good morning…”

Leaning over a table and observing some parchments were Sirius and Alastor “Mad-Eye” Moody. Sirius smiled at her, but Alastor tapped the parchments with his wand, making them fold and disappear from her sight.

“Oh, hello, Hermione,” Moody greeted her, walking towards her with his characteristic limp. “I was looking forward to seeing you,” he said while shaking her hand enthusiastically. “I’m sure your experiences of the war will prove useful to the Auror Department.”

“What were you looking at?” she asked him, not caring about subtleties.

“They were some…” Sirius began to explain.

“It was nothing you should worry about, Hermione…” Alastor interrupted him with a smile on his disfigured face that looked more like a grimace. “Give us five minutes and then we can all chat for a while,” he finished with a blunt tone.

Hermione managed to mutter an ‘oh’ and turned around to leave the room. Sirius seemed to be bothered by that attitude of Mad-Eye because she saw how he frowned from the corner of her eye while staring at the Head of the Auror Office with his arms crossed and a sour face. With a wand movement, Sirius closed the door before Hermione could get out. She looked at him and figured what exactly was going on. She turned back to approach Moody again.

“What’s going on, Alastor? After fighting together so many times… have you lost your trust in me?” she stated point-blank at him. “If I remember correctly, I’m at the same level as Sirius, although under your command. Do you believe that losing the war means that I’ve lost my abilities? Or are you afraid that in the future I come from I’ve sold myself to the Death Eaters?”

Mad-Eye stared at her with his magical eye slightly oscillating while Sirius seemed to enjoy the scene. After half a minute of holding her gaze, Alastor tilted his head to the side, sighed and unfolded the parchments over the table with another tap of his wand.

“Fine,” he growled. “It’s not about a lack of trust. I’m worried about you, Hermione, and I don’t want you to come back to work until you’re fine and over all of this.”

“ _All of this_ meaning being married to me?” Sirius asked, arching an eyebrow.

“You know what I mean,” Moody grumbled, the magical eye turned towards his back.

“No, I don’t know, Alastor,” Hermione answered, crossing her arms.

Mad-Eye put on an impatient grin, the magical eye spinning like a possessed from one side of his head to the other.

“You just left behind ten years of your life that never happened to you,” he grunted, defeated. “Don’t tell me that you can keep the balance and serenity necessary for an Auror’s job with something like that.”

Hermione’s face turned into one of disbelief.

“I just left behind ten years of death and defeat, and I’ve come to find every person I care about alive and kicking. I assure you that nothing helps to keep balance and serenity more than that,” she answered defiantly.

“Point for her, Alastor,” Sirius pointed out impassively. “And now, if you don’t mind, let’s continue with what we were talking about.”

“Which was…?” Hermione prodded subtly.

“Which was information about the possibility of an alliance between former Death Eaters to plan a breakout from Azkaban,” Mad-Eye answered. “We’re not sure, but we’ve detected movement between the Death Eaters that remained free. You remember Goyle, I presume…”

“Of course,” Hermione answered with a disgusted face.

“Well, we found him in the possession of this,” the Head Auror said while pointing to a blueprint on top of the table. Hermione craned her neck and recognized a familiar distribution. On one corner of the parchment the words “Marauder Manor” could be read.

“The blueprints of this house?” Hermione asked astonished.

Sirius looked at her with a seriousness that might have passed as indifference had it not being for how evident it was that he was trying not to get carried away by panic.

“This leads us to think that the breakout they’re planning is for the Malfoys. And if Draco Malfoy manages to get out of Azkaban, he’ll come to kill you.”

 

* * *

 

 

After breakfast, the Weasleys’ owl brought an invitation to have lunch at the Burrow addressed to Hermione and Sirius.

“I’m sorry, I won’t be able to go,” Sirius told her with remorse. “I have a lot of things to do due tomorrow, and a pending report for the Unspeakables’ division that can’t wait any longer.”

“You wouldn’t still be at odds with Molly, right?” she asked him with a laugh.

“Not at all, don’t think so little of me,” Sirius answered. To Hermione’s surprise, his face had turned slightly red. “Now, I’m going to show you around the house and the grounds so you can Apparate to and from wherever you want and know every nook in it.”

“I imagine that the _Marauder Manor_ thing wasn’t my idea, right?” she teased him.

“Actually, it was a suggestion from Remus… but I thought it was the perfect name as soon as he said it,“ Sirius answered with an ironic smile. “Your idea of _Black Manor_ reminded me too much of my dearest family.”

The house was huge, with spacious and cosy rooms. Hermione’s favourite was, without a doubt, the library where they had been with Alastor, completely covered with walnut bookshelves full of books and warmed up by a chimney. On the second floor, the east wing extended into a large terrace covered by an awning, where Sirius had told her they had breakfast in the summer. There was a garage that kept Sirius’ motorbike, shiny and perfect, and a pool with the shape of a small lake in the well-kept garden. The grounds were surrounded by a wooden fence guarded by hedges.

“It’s fantastic,” Hermione breathed out, sitting under a fir tree. “Where are we, exactly?”

“In the outskirts of Southester, about 15 miles south of London,” Sirius explained, sitting beside her with his legs crossed. “You loved this place the minute you saw it, and I’ve got to admit that I was also excited when you brought me here. The whole process, from when we bought the house until we could move in here, although slow and toilsome, it was something… I really keep wonderful memories,” he finished, his eyes lost in the horizon. It was clear to Hermione that he was remembering some moments that were truly pleasing to him. And then she remembered something she had wanted to ask him the night before.

“Sirius… I’d like to ask you something,” she started warily.

He looked at her and put on a smile that could melt Dolores Umbridge.

“And I’d tell you that anything you want if I didn’t know you enough to recognize that tone of voice and understand that I’m not going to like your request. Anyway, I’m listening…” he answered, chewing on some strands of grass.

“In her letter, uh… the other Hermione… she told me about a Pensieve,” she tried, a little nervous.

Sirius suddenly tensed, threw away the blade of grass and said a single word.

“No.”

Hermione extended her arms, her palms held towards him in a pacifying gesture.

“Please… in the letter, she told me you’re not going to want to let me see the memories because you think that that’s going to put pressure on me… but I think that I have a right to live, just like you, the moments, whether they are good or bad, that we spent together…” Hermione was looking for the right words that could make Sirius agree to show her the Pensieve. “Maybe if I knew what things caused that you and I…” she stopped talking, not knowing how to continue.

Sirius shot her a piercing glare.

“…that you and I…?” he repeated.

“…that you and I fell in love” she finished her sentence, blushing deeply.

Sirius breathed deeply and gave her a disappointed look.

“Well, I see that it still seems unbelievable to you that something like that could happen,” he said slowly. “You and I spoke about it many times, and you never managed to change my mind. You must decide for yourself: you have to know me enough to decide what is it you want to do, and if you’re interested to go on with this relationship or not. The other Hermione’s memories… well, they wouldn’t do anything but confuse you. If you decided to stay with me, would it be because of your own feelings, the product of your own experiences, or would it be because of the other Hermione’s feelings?”

“Is there anything I can do to change your mind?” Hermione asked with a sigh, without answering the question.

Sirius merely looked at her, still solemn.

“Yes. When you’re sure about what you want to do, then the memories will be yours. After all, they belong to you.”

“But not before that.”

“No.”

Hermione seemed to ponder his words.

“That is, only if I fall in love with you by means of us living together from now on, you‘ll let me see them,” she summed up irritated. “Don’t you think you’re being too sure of yourself?” she asked with annoyance. She knew she was being unfair, but the impotence of being unable to make him change his mind drove her mad.

Sirius paled. He let out a big sigh and got up, giving her an undecipherable look.

“Of course not. It’s just that I like it when someone is with me because they have freely chosen to, and not because they’re conditioned by memories that could be considered the property of others,” he let out with obvious coldness.

“You are too proud,” she said frustrated.

“The same could be said about you,” he answered, his tone pure ice.

They stared at each other for a few seconds, after which Sirius’ face turned into a tired one.

“I’m sorry,” Hermione admitted with a sigh. “I’m not being fair to you. And I’m accusing you of things that have no foundation.”

“I’m sorry too. I’m just trying to protect you, even though you think otherwise.”

“I don’t need you to protect me,” Hermione grumbled.

Sirius softened his expression and ran a hand through her hair, ruffling it.

“I know. It’s just that I can’t help it,” he confessed. “But it’s late already. You should go to the Burrow if you don’t want to miss dessert,” he reminded her while helping her to her feet.

Hermione let out another sigh.

“Yes, you’re right. Are you sure you don’t want to take a few hours break and come with me to eat at the Weasleys?”

Sirius shook his head.

“As soon as you leave, I’ll eat a sandwich in the library while I finish all those pending reports.”

The entered the house, and Hermione used the fireplace to Floo into the Burrow. But, despite what Sirius had said, as soon as Hermione was out of his sight he sat down and spent a long time with a blank stare, his head between his hands, without giving any signs of starting any hectic activity. Or any kind of activity, to be more precise.

 

* * *

 

 

When Hermione arrived at the Burrow, she was glad to see she wasn’t the only guest. The Lupins were also there, as well as Luna, Neville and Harry. The last one greeted her with a warm but shy smile that didn’t slip past her.

“How are things going?” Tonks asked her on a moment of solitude while going to fetch dishes from the kitchen.

“Ghastly,” Hermione admitted while shrugging her shoulders. “We argued before I came here. He doesn’t want to let me watch the memories that she… that I left in the Pensieve and, well… I think I might have lost my composure.”

“Is that why Sirius didn’t come?” the Metamorphmagus asked her.

Hermione shook her head.

“He has a lot of pending work for tomorrow,” she clarified.

Tonks clicked her tongue. She knew Sirius all too well, and she knew that all that nonsense about pending work was nothing but excuses. He was so stubborn and proud: the matter of the Pensieve fed her up.

Although she didn’t think herself capable of it, Hermione greatly enjoyed the food; spending some calm moments with the family that loved her like a daughter was heartwarming. And more than that, seeing Harry again, alive and safe, was more than she could ask for.

When they finished eating, Harry, Ron and she went to take a walk in the woods that ran next to the Burrow. Hermione felt happy and relaxed again, accompanied by those who had been her best friends.

“How are you doing?” Ron asked her, digging his elbow into her ribs to play the matter down. Hermione suppressed a coughing fit.

“Before you broke two of my ribs and pierced my lung, fine,” she grunted. “You’re a brute.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be jumping around with joy because I’m not dead?” he mocked her.

“I see that your peculiar relationship doesn’t change much in any alternative temporary space, huh?” Harry said rolling his eyes.

“The truth is that I’m realising that, although the events change, people don’t do it so much,” Hermione mused. “This time-travelling really fascinates me. I believe that with my experience we could learn a great deal about it, because the consequences of manipulating the past were a mystery until now, and I think that the Ministry…” Hermione didn’t notice how she was getting more and more excited by her line of thought, hyper-salivating only by thinking of the doors her trip opened to the study of time and the travels through it. Harry and Ron, who had indeed noticed, shared a look that said ‘yes, that’s the same Hermione as ever’, and burst into laughter.

“What’s wrong?” Hermione asked, resented.

“Nothing, it’s just that you’re the same as always: it’s clear that your main love is still Knowledge… poor Sirius!” Ron sympathized, while Hermione blushed to the core and Harry became suddenly uncomfortable.

“Alright, tell us why you think it’s so interesting,” Harry asked her in an attempt to divert Ron’s attention, who was looking at them as if he thought he was missing something.

“Let’s see…” Hermione started to explain, still nervous. “In the beginning it seems as if there were two Hermiones, right? But there is actually just the one, only with the wrong memories. The problem rests on the fact that I’m being denied ten years worth of memories… and I thought that so many changes would cause people to change too…” she went on.

“And it hasn’t been like that?” Harry asked her.

“No! That’s the most exciting part… I find that despite the vastly different experiences, my relationship with every one of you is practically the same. There are some variations, yes, like my friendship with Remus…”

“What about you and Remus?” Harry cut her off immediately.

Ron stared at his friend in disbelief.

“Well, in my past it was only us two and Tonks, and that’s why we’ve been through many things together and maybe the Remus I see now has less confidence in me than the other one,” Hermione explained, she as well staring at Harry with surprise. “Although, it’s amazing how both in my past and in yours, Remus and tons fell in love, which makes me think…”

“That feelings remain unchanged, despite the experiences,” Harry interrupted her.

Ron looked from one to the other alternately as if he was at Wimbledon.

“Yes, but that’s not altogether true,” she continued with her eyes set on her gesticulating hands as if she felt frustrated by not being able to understand it and explain it all perfectly. “Because, in my past, Sirius dies when I’m fifteen, end of story. And, in your past, Sirius survives, and there appears a new element, so important that the future changes and I end up marrying him,” at that point, Hermione had been completely carried away by her scientific craving, without noticing that Harry appeared more uncomfortable each time she mentioned Sirius and that Ron had his eyes wide open, watching the swarthy’s reactions. “What would have happened if I had married and had kids in my past? Well, those kids wouldn’t exist anymore. And me? With my trip, I could have even caused my own death, and with that… what would have happened? And my body is different– I mean, not different, it’s mine, but I had some scars that are no longer there, and if I had had kids with Sirius, I would have come here to find them, but I wouldn’t have any memories of them and…”

“Stop for a moment, please,” Harry asked. “I’m feeling a little dizzy.”

At that point, Ron, who stood out by his extreme slowness to catch up on things, had already connected Harry’s sickly expression with every time Hermione uttered the word ‘Sirius’, and more so if it was linked to the words ‘kids’ or ‘marriage’.

“Yes, me too. Must have been something about the food,” he commented wryly. “I’m going to make some tea, I’ll pour some of the potion mum saves for heavy digestions and take it to the garden table. Hermione, you don’t mind staying with Harry, right?” he asked her, hoping that the two of them could talk about whatever it was they needed to talk so that afterwards they could explain to him what the hell was going on.

“Y–yes, I’ll stay here, Ron,” Hermione answered him, feeling how her stomach, too, was starting to get agitated at the perspective of staying alone with Harry.

They went out of the woods and walked towards the Burrow’s garden. Harry was silent, and Hermione was at a loss about what to say.

“Is your relationship with me also different?” Harry abruptly asked her.

“Huh?” Hermione managed to say. “What do you mean?”

“You know perfectly well what I mean,” he answered without looking at her. “I’m asking you if the relationship that was between you and me in your past is the same one that was in this one.”

Hermione was slightly surprised at Harry’s harshness and felt a bit hurt.

“Well, I don’t know, Harry. Tell me first what relationship there was between you and the other Hermione and maybe then I’ll be able to answer you,” she said, carefully choosing her words and speaking with delicate slowness.

Harry blushed and finally looked her in the eyes.

“Yes, maybe you’re right. You don’t know anything that happened…” he tried to explain, uncomfortable. “You see, you are married to Sirius…”

“Yes, I’ve already noticed that,” she said ironically.

Harry rubbed the nape of his neck, ruffling his hair. He looked as if he was about to bite something.

“But before that, you and I… were together,” he finished.

“How so, together?” Hermione asked blinking. After all, Harry had the special ability to nag her. Was he insinuating that they had been nothing but lovers?

Harry sat on a big boulder at the garden’s entrance and ran his hands through his hair like he did every time he was nervous.

“We were in love,” he confessed, surprising her. “At least, I was very much in love with you. But I didn’t want anyone to know. In part because of Voldemort… I didn’t want it to be known that you were closer to me than Ron or Sirius… but also because I was completely obsessed with bringing Voldemort down and thought that making what was between us official would distract us from our real goal, that was killing him once and for all.”

She sat beside him, feeling an involuntary compassion towards Harry. It was evident that he blamed himself for pushing her away. A little voice inside her head warned her that he was maybe right.

“Sirius knew?” she asked.

Harry shook his head.

“Nobody knew, never…” he answered. “Only you and me. We were together four years… four perfect years,” he finished bitterly.

Hermione watched Harry’s profile. Obviously, what he was remembering at that moment weren’t those four perfect years but something more unpleasant.

“Who left who?” she asked him.

“You left me, although it was hard-won,” he answered with a sardonic half-smile on his face.

“Well, that’s a change, because in my past you were the one who left me,” she commented with a sigh.

Harry brusquely turned his head and stared at her as if she was telling him that in her past he’d had something with Malfoy.

“So… we were together then, as well? And why the hell would I leave you?” he spat out.

Hermione felt her stomach flipping over itself, doing two somersaults and returning to its place as if nothing had happened. She swore vengeance and to never drink another potion for gastritis, for being a traitor.

“It wasn’t voluntary. Voldemort decided to kill you. And he did. End of story,” she explained, noticing a knot in her throat.

“You had it rough,” Harry confirmed surprised as if the fact that the Hermione in front of him had loved him seemed impossible to him.

“I felt like dying,” she agreed. “Ron and Bill dragged me out of there because I would have thrown myself against Voldemort and died fighting against him. But those headstrong Weasleys managed to get us to Grimmauld Place with a Portkey. For a long time, I didn’t give a damn about living or dying… maybe that’s why I survived for so long. They say that when you have nothing to lose you are capable of keeping your head cooler.”

Harry looked at her flabbergasted as if he couldn’t drive himself to believe the story she was telling him.

“And when did you move on?”

Hermione looked at him with a sweet smile.

“I never moved on, Harry. I’ve always loved you.”

He fixed his gaze on her. He had loved her deeply, and his obsession with Voldemort had been what drove her away from him. He knew he was the only one guilty of the fact that she had stopped loving him. And he had regretted it every day of his life, ever since she and Sirius made their relationship known to everyone. Seeing her in love with his godfather had caused him unspeakable pain, and there she was, here again, as if nothing had happened, as if she were still in love with him. It was as if Christmas had suddenly arrived, and he was getting every present of his entire life, but all together and all at once.

A second chance. The chance of changing, of getting back what he had lost. Of being with her, pamper her, take care of her… without the obsession of the war. Voldemort had taken his parents from him when he was a baby. Then, the fight against him had snatched what he loved the most: Hermione. And a nice temporary Portkey showed up to solve everything. He thought guiltily about Sirius for a few seconds, but life had taken so many things away from him that he couldn’t ignore the temptation of taking what was being offered to him on a silver platter. Hermione was still looking at him, although she wasn’t smiling anymore. He leaned towards her, slowly, his eyes fixed on her plump lips, slightly parted. Hermione was still, but she also wasn’t showing any signs of rejection.

POP!

Hermione and Harry turned to the left and quickly jumped away from each other. In the middle of the Weasleys’ garden, Sirius Black had just Apparated.

“It really wasn’t my intention to interrupt anything,” he said gravely. “Alastor has just told me. There’s an urgent meeting for the Aurors under Moody’s orders: the Malfoys have escaped,” Sirius looked alternatively between Hermione and Harry. “Harry, would you mind Apparating with Hermione? I’m going to go through the Floo network, but I think it is safer if someone Apparates with her, just in case.”

“Um, yeah, sure…” Harry managed to say.

Hermione appeared to be stunned as if she had just woken up. Actually, she had lived the last few seconds as if inside a dream, a dream in which her trip through time hadn’t happened and she was reuniting with Harry before she died. And suddenly, at the sight of Sirius, reality bit her in the nose.

“Sirius, wait!” she shouted at him while getting up and starting to run towards him. He was already making his way to the Weasleys’ fireplace.

“Yes?” he asked while turning towards her.

Her eyes crossed with the impassible look of the Animagus.

“I’m sorry,” she said devastated. “I’m terribly sorry that you arrived in that moment and had to see us about to kiss, but on the other side I’m glad nothing happened because it wouldn’t have been right,” she said with dismay. “I’m really, truly sorry. I’d like it if we could talk tonight if you don’t mind.”

Hermione’s face reflected such confusion and regret that, even though Sirius was really furious, he could only nod his head. Hermione saw him walk into the house and turned towards Harry, who was looking at her with a mixture of guilt and desire. She went to him and, without saying a word, offered him her hand.

She took a deep breath.

Her mother was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! I know, I know, I'm awfully late again guys. I think it would be best if we just resigned to the fact that university drains the life from me and I'm trying my best to get these chapters ready for you in my scarce free time, so try not to hate me that much? I beg you, really, for my peace of mind.  
> Now, onto a more pleasant subject... What did you think of the chapter? Hated it? Loved it? Wanted to throw Harry down a cliff? (I could say I'm kidding with the last one, but let's be honest with ourselves). Personally, I kept calling both Hermione and Harry all kinds of unpleasant things while typing the almost-kiss scene.  
> I look forward to hearing (reading?) your thoughts and. as always, a thousand thanks to all of you who left kudos on this story. You are the reason I know I have to keep on doing this until the end.  
> Until next time, lovelies!


	8. Chapter 7: A picture is worth a thousand words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> About to lose the second war against Voldemort, Hermione has an hour to go back to the past and prevent Sirius' death by falling through the Veil. But when she returns to her present, she finds everything very, very different...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing. Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling, and this work is all LaraG's, I'm only translating it for your enjoyment.

**Chapter 7: A picture is worth a thousand words**

When Hermione and Harry arrived at Moody’s office the others were already there. Alastor was sitting in front of an enormous dark wood table in a room filled with defence against the dark arts trinkets, darkened and worn-out parchments and books of all kind. In an assortment of variously styled seats dispersed across the room was the rest of the group, all of them with worried faces: Ron, Remus, Tonks, Ginny and a black man with shaved head and an earring in one of his ears, Kingsley Shacklebolt. Sirius, with the same impassive face from moments before, was indolently sitting on the edge of Mad-Eye’s table, and in between Ginny and Tonks, there was a woman that Hermione hadn’t seen before in her life.

Tall, with perfect features and full lips, a long and thick mane of light brown hair that fell down her shoulders, heavy and shiny. Dressed in a tunic that, without being openly sexy, was suggestive enough to awake masculine admiration, and elegant enough to not appear vulgar. She was sitting with her back straight and her long legs crossed in an impeccable posture, showing the tips of a pair of exquisite high-heels. Her intense gaze was pointed, without a doubt, towards Sirius who played with his wand, oblivious to the rest.

Cordelia Winterthrop, no doubt. The other Auror in the group.

“Well, welcome at last,” Alastor grumbled as he got up from his chair and walked through his office towards them. “Now that we’re all here, we can begin. Hermione, as Sirius would’ve already told you, the Malfoys have managed to escape and will try to kill you.”

“A good afternoon to you too, Mad-Eye,” Harry interrupted him sarcastically while conjuring two more chairs for him and Hermione.

“Yes, let’s calm down a little,” Remus replied with his characteristic good sense. “Hermione, allow me to introduce you to Cordelia Winterthrop. I believe you don’t know her yet.”

Cordelia rose up from her chair and greeted Hermione with a smile as shiny as the diamonds she was wearing on her earlobes. But Hermione, despite not having the inner-eye, according to Professor Trelawney, she did have a clinic eye to notice some things, and it was evident to her that Cordelia didn’t like her one bit.

“It’s weird to me, greeting you as if I didn’t know you,” the Auror commented. Seeing her up-close, Hermione could note her impeccable and subtle makeup and wondered how it was possible that, on an urgent and without warning call, someone could look as if they had spent four hours getting ready.

“Don’t worry about anything, Hermione. As long as you’re with Sirius, nothing can happen to you,” Cordelia assured her in a maternal tone, gazing at him as if he was Voldemort’s last and valuable Horcrux.

Hermione thanked her for her words and shot a sideways look towards Sirius. The Animagus wasn’t paying them attention, apparently. Or, at least, wasn’t paying Cordelia much attention, something that she found herself being thankful for. In the fraction of a second, Hermione considered the possibility of feeling jealous, possibility that she discarded a fraction of a second after.

‘Exhaustiveness is making me imagine things’, she thought.

“Hermione, would you happen to know why the Malfoys harbour a special hate towards you?” Tonks asked her, her hair the usual hue of bubblegum pink.

She shook her head.

“You put them in Azkaban,” Remus calmly continued.

“You have to be on… CONSTANT VIGILANCE!” hollered Alastor next to Hermione’s ear, causing her to jump in her chair.

“Alastor, she already has three enemies on the run, she doesn’t need any more,” Tonks said, amused.

“Maybe they’ll try to kidnap you in your own house and take you to theirs, as they did with me,” Ginny suggested.

“Or kill you directly,” Ron added as if it was nothing.

“Nah… first, the kidnapping, then, the torture, and to finish it all, the murder. That’s more like the Malfoys,” Tonks concluded.

“Please…” Cordelia scolded them with a disgusted look on her face.

“Would you all please behave a little?” Remus requested calmly. “It’s alright to try to take importance from the matter, but taking it as a joke is going a step too far. And, we don’t know if Hermione is afraid or not.”

“Actually, no,” Hermione said. “I’ve already faced the Malfoys on several occasions, and they never managed to take me down.”

“Surely this time is different, Hermione,” Remus argued. “The Malfoys have very little to lose, and they’re only looking for revenge.”

“In any case, we need to be prepared and decide what we have to do,” it was the first time Sirius opened his mouth, his voice deep but calm. “Hermione, do you know Malfoy Manor?”

She looked him in the eye and shook her head.

“Well, that’s a pity, because one of the things that could occur to them is to take you there and torture you until they got tired of it,” Sirius slowly explained. “I think we need three different strategies: preventing the Malfoys from approaching you, keeping you protected at all times and getting you ready so you can escape by your own means, in case everything else fails.”

“Well, let’s get to the first thing,” Remus began. “I suppose that Marauder Manor is sufficiently protected against intruders, but it wouldn’t be a bad idea to seal it against Apparitions and close the Floo Network.”

“That could backfire easily, Remus,” Tonks countered. “If they need any help, how would we enter?”

“I think closing the chimneys is a good idea,” Shacklebolt voiced, nodding with his black shaved head. “We could always Apparate on the vicinity of the house, and they can get out with brooms or on Sirius’ bike.”

In the silent room, Hermione’s resigned sigh could be heard.

“With that settled…” Harry accepted with a smile. War or no war, future or past, Hermione was allergic to flying. “We could also reinforce the protection charms and make it so no one uninvited can cross the door.”

“Now, the twenty-four hours protection,” Remus continued. “While you’re at home there would be no problem because Sirius will be with you. You have to always come to work accompanied, and it would be preferable if you didn’t go out with anyone that isn’t from this group… or, if you do, one of us is with you.”

“I don’t have any intentions of going out on my own with a stranger,” Hermione pointed out wryly. “But I do believe you are overreacting a bit.”

“Not at all,” Sirius said decisively. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I think I do…” Hermione refuted him softly. “I’ve faced them many times, Sirius, and I think that I…”

“Enough with the discussions!” Alastor roared. “Hermione, you are one of my best Aurors, and I’m not willing to let you get killed. Sirius, before she came from the past… didn’t Hermione leave a ton of her memories on the Pensieve you keep at home?”

Hermione’s heart leapt in her chest. Sirius was slowly nodding with his head as if fearing Moody’s request.

“The third strategy is to get you ready to escape from the Malfoys if the rest fails,” he explained as if it was something unavoidable. “You know that the… _other Hermione_ left some memories for you. Well, one of them takes place at Malfoy Manor. It will serve you to go through the house and know it from the inside, although you’ll have to check the blueprints first. Don’t worry, we have copies,” he clarified at Hermione’s gesture. “And also, I may not know how the Malfoys of your past were, but I assure you that here they are vicious beasts…”

An awkward silence came upon the room, and Hermione could see how Harry showed a disgusted expression and how Ginny fidgeted on her seat. Even Cordelia Winterthrop, that seemed very indifferent regarding anything that could happen to Hermione, abandoned her perfect posture for a moment in order to take a deep breath, cringe a little and let her almond eyes leave Sirius to show an emotion that was very close to fear.

“In m past…” Hermione began to say with an uncertain voice as if she was carefully looking for the words, “…the final encounter between Harry an Voldemort took place two years ago. Harry died,” she simply said, looking at the man in question, who stared back at her, listening closely to what she had to say. “After that, everything happened rather quickly… groups of Death Eaters were attacking in a systematic and organized way, by surprise, the homes of members of the Order as well as Hogwarts’ grounds, Grimmauld Place and even Ministry offices… in some cases, the ones attacking were Death Eaters who were very close to Voldemort, like the Malfoys. Ginny and Fred had been hurt on the final battle, and were at the Burrow, being taken care of by Molly,” Hermione paused to take a deep breath; followed by everyone else in the room that had been holding their breath so far. “It was the Malfoys who attacked the Burrow… I know that because Molly was still alive when we arrived. It was a massacre. They especially had it in for Fred and Ginny. Nothing you can tell me about the Malfoys that you know could impress me, I assure you. Ron was incapable of identifying the bodies so I had to do it. So don’t come here telling me horror stories for before going to bed. I don’t need them to be cautious.

The silence extended for several seconds, interrupted by Sirius.

“How did the Malfoys get in the Burrow?”

“Polyjuice Potion,” Hermione answered, shrugging her shoulders. “Molly opened the door for them thinking they were Ron, George and Arthur. They had large quantities of Polyjuice Potion, hidden on Voldemort’s headquarters, at the old Riddle House.”

“Yes, that didn’t change,” Remus interrupted. “But the Ministry managed to bring Riddle House down, making it seem as if it had a problem on the foundations. The Muggle Prime Minister helped with that.”

“Even so, they could still have Polyjuice Potion stashed somewhere,” Hermione insisted. “Surely it can still be purchased at Knockturn Alley.”

“Well, we should be especially cautious when attending our front doors… and that goes for everyone,” Harry warned.

“We must all be on…” Alastor began.

“CONSTANT VIGILANCE!” hollered everyone at once.

“These youngsters… they take everything as a joke…”

 

* * *

 

 

When Sirius and Hermione arrived back at their home, it had been more than an hour since nightfall. Even then, they had barely exchanged a word, and Hermione didn’t know how to start the pending conversation. Sirius gave word to the house-elves to prepare them a frugal dinner and turned to her.

“Do you want to see the memory now or would you rather have dinner first?”

“I’m not hungry,” was her simple answer, anxious to be submerged in the Pensieve.

Sirius went up the stairs that lead to the library and Hermione followed, silently. There, Sirius pointed his wand at an apparently innocuous spot of the wall and cast a nonverbal spell. Immediately, the wall opened and gave way to a glass showcase that contained a shallow stone basin decorated with runes along the border. Under the Pensieve, there was an ebony wooden box, which Sirius grabbed and laid on top of the table. Opening it, Hermione could see several carved glass vials, sealed with a cork and labelled, mostly, with Hermione’s neat handwriting.

Sirius carefully read some of the labels, frowning at some of them and smiling discreetly at others. Finally, he took a vial slightly bigger than the others and poured its contents in the Pensieve. The memory, with a consistency that was neither gas nor liquid, turned in itself and filled the vase. Sirius waved a hand at it.

“There you have,” he said with a polite smile.

“Sirius…” Hermione hesitated. “Aren’t you coming with me?”

He said nothing for a few moments but finally shook his head.

“I think it is better if you see it first. But if there’s any problem, I can come and look at it with you later.”

Hermione nodded and approached the Pensieve. Slowly, she lowered her face onto the stone basin, until she felt herself falling into an ugly looking Muggle street. Immediately she recognized numbers 11 and 13 of Grimmauld Place, but the façade of number 12 couldn’t yet be seen. She waited for a moment. It had started to sunset.

After a few seconds, two people Apparated to her left. Sirius and her. They were walking in silence, their expressions worried, and Hermione’s eyes were red. They stood in front of the space between numbers 11 and 13 and, in an instant, the dirty façade of number 12 appeared before them.

The Sirius from her memories tapped the door with his wand and it opened with a metallic click. He placed his hand on memory-Hermione’s back and helped her inside. Hermione had to hurry to go in after them before the door closed, and found herself again in the mouldy hallway of the Black family house.

Hermione was right on Sirius and Hermione’s heels, who made their way to the kitchen without a moment to spare. She choked on a scream: there they were, with funeral faces, Mr and Mrs Weasley, Ron, Fred, George, Bill, Remus, Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Cordelia Winterthrop. And, standing at the head of the table was Harry Potter, visibly upset.

“Well, that’s everyone,” he simply said when they showed at the door.

“What’s happened?” Hermione asked Mrs Weasley.

“They broke into the Burrow,” she explained with a teary voice. “Destroyed the defences. Ginny was the only one there, and they took her. We don’t know if she’s alive or…” Mrs Weasley’s voice wavered and she was unable to continue.

“They left the Dark Mark over the house, and a note,” Mr Weasley said, handing the parchment over to Hermione. Real Hermione stood on tiptoes and read over the shoulder of her namesake. The note was brief.

_We’ll wait for you at home, Potter_

“We can assume that there’s a swarm of Death Eaters in Malfoy Manor, at the moment,” Remus cut in. “And surely Voldemort himself would be there, awaiting Harry’s arrival and rubbing his hands with glee.”

“It’s the same, we have to go anyway,” Sirius surmised, conjuring the blueprints of Malfoy Manor with a tap of his wand. “If we manage to get into the basement without…”

“We’re not going,” Harry interrupted him.

The silence was made, and everyone looked between Sirius and Harry, who were looking at each other challengingly.

“You pretend to leave Ginny there, in the hands of…” Sirius accused him in disbelief, not even able to finish the phrase. The Hermione from the memory covered her face with a hand and sighed, while the real Hermione was asking herself in horror what could possibly make Harry act in such a way.

“I pretend to leave right now to Transylvania, where Alastor already is,” Harry pointed out; “and where probably is Rowena Ravenclaw’s Diadem. We’ll destroy the last Horcrux and come back in time to free Ginny without being condemned beforehand. While a single Horcrux remains, Voldemort is still immortal and we’ll all die. As soon as the last one is destroyed, we’ll have a chance,” seeing Sirius’ face, Harry hardened his expression. “Alastor and I are in charge, Sirius. No one is going until I come back. It would be a certain death.”

“Ginny will be a certain death if we don’t go,” Sirius said through gritted teeth while Molly Weasley burst into tears again.

“They won’t kill Ginny, she’s too valuable to them,” Harry insisted stubbornly. “I’ll say it again, you are expressly forbidden from going to Malfoy Manor. As soon as Alastor and I come back from Transylvania, we’ll organize a group to get Ginny out of there. I hope to be here before sunrise.”

“And if you don’t get back in time? And if something happens to you?” Hermione asked in a shaky voice.

Harry stared coldly at her.

“I see you have great confidence in me,” was his simple answer. “You better than anyone knows what can happen if the Death Eaters manage a massacre among Order’s members, is that what you want? Don’t you want victory?”

Hermione looked at him as if he was a stranger.

“I don’t want victory at any price,” she pointed out.

Harry looked away, uncomfortable, but remained firm. He put on a travel coat and left the kitchen without looking at anyone. Before he crossed the door, he stopped and turned around.

“I only ask that you trust me. I know what I’m doing. I’ll be back in time to get Ginny out of there,” he said without looking at anyone in particular and, immediately after, disappeared out of the front door.

For a few seconds, nobody said anything. Only Mrs Weasley’s sobs could be heard, muted by her husband’s shoulder. Hermione looked around at everyone’s expressions. Remus seemed exhausted as if the day before that had been a full moon. Tonks also had her eyes slightly swollen, although it was expected as she was Ginny’s mentor and obviously cared a great deal about her. Shacklebolt and Cordelia seemed impassible as if they were willing to follow Harry’s orders without a doubt, and the rest of the Weasleys looked simply defeated.

“I’ll go looking for her. Alone, if I must.”

The real Hermione saw how Sirius stepped towards the table and looked at Remus. He simply nodded his head, while Tonks grabbed his shoulder and showed her support towards Sirius with a gesture. The Hermione form the memory stepped forward and grabbed Sirius by the arm.

“I’m coming with you.”

Sirius shook his head.

“It’s almost a suicide, Hermione. Not even mad would I let you come.”

“Try and stop me.”

The real Hermione paid close attention to the battle of stares between the two, more stubborn than a pair of mules. Hermione’s lips were pursed and her expression was one of pure determination she knew so well that she couldn’t help a smile to show on her lips. Sirius’ jaw was tense but, although he hesitated for a moment, it was soon clear that he wouldn’t be able to change his partner’s mind.

“Sirius, Hermione… maybe Harry is right… maybe we should trust him… I couldn’t bear to think that something could happen to you if…” Molly Weasley’s voice was heard between her muted sobs.

“I won’t let Ginny there, at the mercy of that nest of vipers,” Sirius countered.

The real Hermione noticed a knot in her throat. She was stunned. She sat on the floor, her back against the wall, while Sirius, Hermione, Remus and Tonks decided on the strategy. The voices reached her in muted tones, though she understood that while she and Sirius would enter the mansion through whatever entrance they could manage, Tonks and Lupin would create a distraction outside of the house to attract the Death Eaters’ attention. When she realised they were about to leave, she was quickly on her feet to follow them. But, when they had reached the poorly maintained street, the Weasley brothers reached them.

“We’re going with you,” Ron said, panting. “I trust Harry and I’m sure he’ll come back on time, but we can’t stand here with our arms crossed.”

Gradually, her surroundings turned darker until she was in the middle of a complete darkness. Hermione turned on her feet, trying to find out what was happening to the memory when she found herself in the middle of a massive garden that was being taken care of with exquisite dedication. Evidently, Hermione’s memory had changed, and now she must be in the surroundings of Malfoy Manor. After a few seconds, Sirius and Hermione made their appearance in his motorcycle. Memory Hermione had such an expression of panic that the real one smiled. A trip on Sirius’ bike made a hippogriff the safest means of transport in comparison.

They moved quickly, and she was having trouble following them, but in a few minutes, they were in front of the imposing Malfoy manor. It had begun to darken, and light shone through the windows. Sirius tapped Hermione with his wand, casting a Disillusionment Charm on her before transforming into a dog. Hermione then cast the charm on him as well. They laid on the ground and waited. The real Hermione wondered what the hell they were waiting for.

A few minutes later, huge flares of fire rose into the dark sky, while the roar of what seemed to be several explosions could be heard. Hermione saw how the main door opened, and how several men came through it, armed with wands. The disillusioned Animagus and Hermione crawled across the grass and reached a ramp that led to a small door. Hermione recognized it as the entrance to one of the storerooms she had seen on the blueprints. More and more noises and screams could be heard, and from where they were they could see the bright lights of the curses. They opened the door and stealthily got in.

As it was to be expected, there weren’t many people around there. Despite the fact that they were hiding, they were so fast that Hermione had trouble following them, and the Disillusionment Charm made it nearly impossible to tell them apart from the walls. She eventually recognized each of the rooms on the mezzanine, where the kitchens and the storerooms were. Sometimes a Death Eater got near them, but the Animagus sniffed him and alerted his partner. Both stayed still until the danger was over.

They crossed the floor and went up to the next one, while Hermione memorized all the hallways, corners and doors she encountered. The house was huge and complex, but having studied its distribution beforehand, it was easier for her to get oriented. She was starting to get tired when, before they rounded a corner, they heard the cold voice of Lucius Malfoy. He wasn’t alone.

“The Dark Lord wants us to inform him when Potter shows up. Perhaps all this racket outside means that the boy is already here,” he was saying to the Death Eater to his right.

“Then make sure to catch him and kill the rest, Nott,” Lucius answered with a derogatory tone. “I’m going to keep taking care of the Weasley girl.”

Hermione’s heart sank at the thought of what Lucius’ words could mean. Nott disappeared down another hallway, while Lucius walked towards one of the walls, upholstered in velvet, and without further ado, placed his palm against it and went through it.

Hermione followed the other two and, like them, placed her hand against the wall and went through it. On the other side, there was a spiral staircase illuminated by torches that went down at least two stories. The two disillusioned ones and the not disillusioned one went down following Lucius Malfoy, whose footsteps resonated with a slight eco. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, they found a humid dungeon. Squatting, and with his back against the wall, sat Draco Malfoy. He had his hair wet and messy, far from his usual immaculate appearance. Lying on the floor, with blood on her hair and on the corners of her mouth, was Ginny Weasley, unconscious. Hermione’s hand went to her mouth to stifle a scream.

“How’s it going?” Lucius asked him as if he was talking about the weather.

“Only two _Cruciatus_ and she’s already like that,” Draco answered indifferently. “I couldn’t cast more curses on her, because it appears that she endures little. If I start to damage organs, I’m going to kill her.”

“Then wake her up and do it, Draco,” his father advised him coldly. “The only thing that matters is that Potter comes looking for her, we do not care whether she’s dead or alive. And in the end, it’s only one less Weasley.”

Everything happened too fast. In the blink of an eye, the dog threw itself at Lucius’ throat and threw him to the floor, while Hermione paralyzed Draco and secured him with ropes. As the Animagus kept Lucius still, Hermione’s wand cast a _Desmaius_ and tied him as well. Then, they approached the still figure of Ginny and made sure she was alive. They returned to their normal appearance and Sirius turned back into a human.

“No!” Hermione exclaimed.

“You can’t carry her, Hermione.”

“I can levitate her to the entrance!”

“You’ll need your wand free,” Sirius replied and settled the issue, taking the redhead in his arms.

Before any of them could react, a beam of purple light hit Hermione on the side of her chest.

“Ahh!”

“HERMIONE!”

The real Hermione knew the two Death Eaters that had just appeared at the bottom of the spiral staircase very well, because she had fought against them in the Department of Mysteries: Dolohov and Lestrange. The Hermione from the memory was still conscious, but she held her left side with one hand and was breathing labouredly. Sirius shot two curses at the Death Eaters while protecting Ginny and Hermione. Dolohov fell unconscious, but Lestrange kept casting spells right and left. Finally, he hit Sirius on the shoulder just before he threw him against the wall, where his head hit the stone. Lestrange’s body slipped slowly to the floor, leaving a trail of blood on the wall.

“Is he…?” Hermione managed to ask, her voice thin.

“I don’t care,” Sirius answered, bending over her. Blood was coming out of the shoulder where Ginny’s head was resting, staining the redhead’s hair. “How are you?” Sirius laid Ginny down on the floor and moved Hermione’s hands away from her side. There was no blood, but it was swollen. He felt the zone with utmost care. The real Hermione’s heart gave a leap inside her chest. In each delicate movement, one could see how Sirius felt about her.

“You have several broken ribs, and possibly a pulmonary contusion,” he informed her in a soft voice. “We have to leave quickly. You think you can walk?”

“I think so, yes.” She answered, smiling warmly at him.

Sirius took Ginny again in his arms and made Hermione lean on him to get up. He conjured some dressing around her ribs and cast a Disillusionment Charm on the three of them. Limping, they made their way to the stairs.

Getting out of Malfoy Manor was even faster than getting in. They undid the path they had taken, although they exited through the opposite wing, and Hermione saw that where the blueprints said the kitchens were, there actually was some kind of cells where they kept boxes and sealed recipients that Hermione imagined were full of potions. There was a laboratory with cauldrons of all sizes and vials with ingredients in alphabetical order. The lab had an underground exit that ended on a trapdoor she hadn’t seen on the blueprints. Hermione took mental notes of everything to add the changes later.

The three went to the forest, but on the opposite direction of where the big columns of fire and smoke rising to the already starry sky could be seen, and from where screams and threats made their way towards them. When they were far enough from that zone, they got near a group of trees especially thick and took shelter under them, while Sirius sent red sparks from his wand towards the sky, signalling to the others where they were.

“Let’s rest for a moment and wait for them,” Sirius said as he left Ginny on a soft patch of grass and helped Hermione ret her back against a tree trunk.

The Hermione from the memory was looking pointedly at him, while he lifted the clothes covering her waist and vanished the dressing he had conjured earlier. A satisfied smile formed on his face.

“The swelling has decreased a little, although you have a horrible bruise,” he said while feeling the area. Hermione jumped a little and Sirius quickly lifted his eyes from her broken ribs and put his hand away.

“I’m sorry, have I hurt you!?” he was quick to ask, looking into her eyes.

The real Hermione got closer, moved by her curiosity. She had already seen everything she needed from the memory of the manor’s distribution, but the _other Hermione’s attitude…_ she was beginning to realise what was happening there.

The Hermione from the memory shook her head, her expression solemn. Sirius looked at her with a question in his eyes.

“Then, why did you jump?”

Despite it already been dark, the glow from the flames crackling from afar managed to illuminate one side of Hermione’s face, which was noticeably red.

“Sirius… thank you…” she whispered.

The Animagus raised an eyebrow.

“Thank me? For what?”

She caressed his cheek with the palm of her hand, a gesture that seemed to enormously surprise him. The real Hermione held her breath. For what she remembered from the letter the _other Hermione_ had left her, Sirius had confessed her feelings for her a long time ago, but she had rejected him because of her liaison with Harry. Sirius’ shocked expression didn’t surprise her.

However, the Animagus must have seen something in the girl’s eyes, because he covered her hand with his own and, leaning towards Hermione, who brought her lips closer to his, he kissed her.

The real Hermione noticed her heart beating at the speed of a racing car. I wasn’t a heated kiss, but it showed such intensity of feelings that, despite her being one of the participants, she felt as if she was doing something… improper. Soon she felt her cheeks burning, and she was glad for entering the memory alone. Sirius’ kiss was tender, slow and maddeningly sensual, and she felt the sudden desire of being in the place of her other self.

Quick steps could be heard moving towards them through the woods, and the couple broke apart brusquely. Before Hermione could realise what was going on, Sirius brought Hermione to the ground and threw himself on top of her, just in time to avoid a beam of green light.

Bellatrix Lestrange let out a cackle.

“Well, cousin… I’m sorry for interrupting such a tender moment.”

Another three Death Eaters appeared behind her: Macnair, Avery and Rockwood, all with their wands up. The real Hermione whimpered. They were at a clear numerical inferiority, and hurt, nonetheless. It was like watching a horror movie, knowing that the main character survives in the end, but unable to avoid being startled.

Sirius dodged a curse from Macnair and raised his wand, but before he could do anything else, the four Death Eaters dropped to the floor, unconscious.

Behind them, wrapped in two green travel capes and with the appearance of having crossed Transylvania from side to side by foot, were Harry Potter and Alastor “Mad-Eye” Moody. The youngest looked at Sirius with an expression that was the combination of anger, admiration and amusement.

“I should have imagined you would do something like this, Sirius,” Harry said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there, lovelies! Is anyone still here, even after a two month wait? I know, I know, I'm the absolute worst and I don't deserve any of you, but I think this chapter compensates for the looong wait, right? I mean, how about that ending! How about that kiss. If you're like me when I first read this story, then you sure as hell have been waiting for some sort of contact between our two stubborn lovebirds since the beginning. And this chapter certainly delivers!
> 
> So, let's break down some of the events that happened here. There's a peek of how Harry was nearing the end of the war, a side of him that our Hermione has never seen nor could have ever imagined. From this chapter on (if I remember correctly), there would be hints of how the Harry from this timeline is definitely not the Harry Hermione remembers. They are simply two different people, not entirely, but affected by different experiences that caused a shift in his personality. The question is, how long would it take Hermione to bring Harry down from that pedestal she has built him in her mind? We shall see. I wouldn't want to spoil the fun for you.
> 
> Okay then, that said, I'm leaving all of you and retiring to bed (can you believe it's 5:21 in the morning!? Please take the hour into consideration when you're deliberating on whether to forgive me or not for my tardiness in updating. Remember that I do my best). I start my finals next week, and I shall be free in about two weeks time to start working on the next chapter. It's a lot to ask, I know, but please be patient with this poor and stressed college student?
> 
> As always, a thousand thanks to all of you who take the time to leave kudos and comment on this. I love reading your thoughts and opinions on where you think this is headed, and they motivate me to make more time for translating.
> 
> Until next time, lovelies! I'm going to sleep and hopefully dream of Sirius ;)


	9. You learn something new every day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> About to lose the second war against Voldemort, Hermione has an hour to go back to the past and prevent Sirius' death by falling through the Veil. But when she returns to her present, she finds everything very, very different...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing. Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling, and this work is all LaraG's, I'm only translating it for your enjoyment.

**Chapter 8: You learn something new every day**

When Hermione took her head out of the Pensieve, she was alone in the library. On top of the table there was a note from Sirius, telling her that he was leaving her alone for a moment, but if he needed her we’d be in his office downstairs. Hermione remembered that next to the room he was currently using as a bedroom, Sirius had some kind of study where he worked in if she was using the library. Surely he was referring to it.

Hermione was feeling a little anxious. On one side, she felt that Harry’s early death had just made her idealize him. In her head and in her heart, Harry was the martyr, the defeated hero that had died while trying to save the wizarding world from the claws of the darkest wizard of all times. Nonetheless, the Harry from the Pensieve and, therefore, the real Harry from that present, was a strong and hardened wizard, with his goals clear enough to do anything to reach them. Maybe to others, his image had improved, but Hermione was an idealist and what attracted her in a man was the altruistic heroism, the fighting for lost causes. And who had acted like that in the other Hermione’s memory?

Sirius.

On the one hand, he would have thrown himself in Ginny’s rescue, in an almost suicidal attack, and on the other, he had directly challenged Harry’s authority to do it, despite him being his godson and more like a son to him. Like Dumbledore had said in her first ear: “ _It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends_ ”. And, on top of everything, there was that kiss, that had made her pulse ran at a thousand miles per hour and was the irrefutable proof that Sirius not only loved her, a lot, but he also _wanted_ her.

She sat on the wide armchair next to the desk, beside the fireplace, letting the fire warm her ankles. From the corner of her eye, she saw the ebony wooden box and got up to place it on her lap. It was a gesture of trust from Sirius to leave it there, with all the memories at her reach… she could pour all of them in the Pensieve and watch them, one by one… but it seemed that Sirius knew her well: that vote of confidence did nothing but making it impossible for her to betray it and look at the memories in secret.

She glanced at the labels on the vials: in her elegant and harmonious handwriting she had tagged each of them, and they showed the most various phrases. The one she had just used had a white tag that read “Ginny’s Kidnapping”. There were some that strongly caught her attention: “Discussion Babies” and “Unwanted Declaration Sirius”, among others. Especially the first one. Surely, if they had been married for more than a year, it was logical that they had considered the idea of having children, but if that had ended in a discussion, it could be because they had different points of view. Had it been Sirius or her who hadn’t wanted to start a family?

She returned the vial to its place and decided to go to sleep. She was too agitated and disappointed with Harry to talk to Sirius at that moment and, above all, too confused. She thought that a night of resting was what would be best for her head.

However, once wrapped in her checkered pyjamas, she started to turn and turn on the bed, unable to fall asleep. She couldn’t stop thinking about Harry’s hardened attitude. Was she partly to blame for it? She was scared that her trip to the past telling what had happened to them might have made Harry obsess over not losing the war to a point of putting Voldemort’s defeat before his friends’ safety. Tired of turning over and over again, she decided to see if Sirius was still awake.

Barefoot, she went down the stairs without making a noise, feeling the cold and soft translucent slabs beneath her feet. She knocked on the door of Sirius’ office and, not getting an answer, walked in.

It was a room very alike to the grand library on the upper floor, although not as magnificent. On top of the dimly lit desk, there were stacked lots of parchments written in different handwritings, and a quill rested in the inkwell as if it had only being used seconds before. The top drawer was slightly opened, and Hermione’s eyes went directly to it. There was something red inside…

Without thinking that perhaps she could be sticking her nose in something private, she slipped her hand inside the drawer and retrieved a red woollen tie curled into a small ball. She recognized it immediately: she had lost it at Grimmauld Place ten days ago when she had made her little trip to the past. It was clear that Sirius had kept it all that time, with the small detail that for him it had been ten years instead of ten days.

“I see you’ve found your hair tie”.

Hermione turned around abruptly and saw Sirius, dressed comfortably and levitating with his wand a tray with a steaming pot and a cup, coming through the door. He had the same cool expression of usual. She felt as if she were a girl caught red-handed with the cookie jar and blushed profusely.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t want to… you said you’d be here, so I…”

Sirius made a gesture with his hand as if resting importance from the matter and smiled warmly. He left the tray on top of the desk, conjured another cup, and signalled Hermione to one of the two armchairs placed next to the small fireplace.

“Don’t apologize. There’s nothing you cannot see. Would you like some coffee?”

Hermione sat in front of the fire and gladly accepted the cup Sirius offered her. She pulled up her legs and crossed them on top of the chair, and lifted the cup with her eyes set on the flames while Sirius sat next to her and waited patiently for her to begin the conversation. He could see she was nervous and restless.

“I’ve seen many things on the Pensieve…” Hermione began slowly. “I’ve seen how Harry refused to go looking after Ginny to Malfoy Manor…” she stopped for a moment as if it was hard for her to find the words; “I’ve seen how Harry acted coldly with everyone and left for Transylvania to search for one of the Horcruxes… leaving Ginny at the mercy of the Malfoys…” she took a sip of her coffee and looked at Sirius in the eye. “I don’t understand, Sirius… that’s not the Harry I know…”

The Animagus sighed deeply.

“One of the reasons why I didn’t want you to go diving into the other Hermione’s memories was that. Things have to be seen in context, you have to live them to understand them…” he tried to explain while running his hand down the back of his head. “When you came from the future and explained that only you and Remus remained alive, Harry faced for the first time the possibility of losing to Voldemort. I’m not saying that he’d always thought he would win, but he had never seen so clearly that he could lose as he did that day. And then, Harry made a choice” Sirius made a pause in which he looked intensely at Hermione. “Harry decided that the first thing was to end with Voldemort and that everything else would have to wait. Mostly he did it for you.”

“For me?” Hermione interrupted him, incredulous. She still remembered the Harry from the memory, addressing her coldly.

Sirius smiled slyly.

“He didn’t want you to suffer. You were always his best friend, but I guess that falling in love with you had a lot to do with the matter.”

“Huh?” she jumped at his words.

“Oh, come on, Hermione” the Animagus replied with an impatient gesture. “I never suspected anything until you and I told everyone about us. Harry’s face was so… obvious… you never told me anything, and I never asked, but I always knew. Probably, having known about it earlier, I would have never told you I loved you” at such a direct declaration, Hermione blushed violently; “but when I realised what Harry felt towards you it was too late. The thing is that Harry had only one goal: kill Voldemort and prevent him from winning the war. What I think Harry could never have guessed was that he would lose you in the process.”

Hermione stirred over and over the coffee that magically maintained a constant temperature, while a thin column of steam came out of the cup.

“I don’t get it…”

“Harry pretended to leave for later everything that wasn’t related to finishing Voldemort: Ginny’s kidnapping, his relationship with you… everything. He left with Moody to Transylvania because he was totally convinced that he was going to find the last Horcrux, but he didn’t. when they realised that that time they weren’t going to get it, they came back quickly, and arrived at just the right time to rescue you, Ginny and me, who had just escaped by a whisker from an attack of Bellatrix.”

“Yes, I know, that was also on the… on the other Hermione’s memory,” she interrupted him, blushing at the memory of the kiss.

“Ah… yes… well…” Sirius hesitated, apparently uncomfortable. “Well, so Harry didn’t have the intention of abandoning Ginny or anything. But he knew that, without the last Horcrux destroyed, if Voldemort had been at Malfoy Manor, it would have been a massacre, so he put the destruction of the Horcrux before Ginny. When he saw it wasn’t possible, he returned, in time to save us but, to his disgrace, too late to save his relationship with you” Sirius diverted his eyes to the flames, meditative. “I think that Harry focused excessively on Voldemort and forgot the human factor.”

“The human factor?” Hermione asked curiously.

“Yes, the emotions, the feelings of which Dumbledore was always talking about” Sirius nodded without looking at her. “I’ve never spoken of this with Harry, but I know him well. I’m convinced he was so sure of what he felt for you that he thought it unnecessary to clarify it for you. He was willing to sacrifice his life to kill Voldemort but, in the end, although he survived, he did have to sacrifice something that, in the end, was what mattered most to him.”

Hermione ran her fingers over her forehead, also meditative.

“And you?” she suddenly asked.

Sirius looked at her oddly.

“And me… what?”

“Why didn’t you care that Voldemort could have been there?”

Sirius seemed to mull over his answer for a moment. His lips curved up in a sardonic smile.

“I had already lost a war, Hermione, and most of my friends in it,” he said without looking at her. At that moment, for the first time, Hermione realised that, despite how young he looked, Sirius had lived many things and had the serenity of he who had been through a little bit of everything. “I cared little about long-term goals: I’ve always lived in the moment, and regarding Voldemort, I felt the same way. Did it make any sense to kill him if along the way the people I cared most about were left behind? I think not…” Sirius looked at Hermione with a slight smile that showed how convinced he was of his words. “Harry and I discussed a lot about that, but we always had opposite points of view. And I’ve always done what I believed to be right, despite what Harry thought. So he already supposed I was going to do something like that.”

“But not that I was going to go with you” Hermione pointed out accurately.

Sirius was a little startled at that.

“No” he admitted. “And that bothered him a lot, but he conceded with sportsmanship, despite it being a massive disobedience. He understood he had made a mistake.”

“If we hadn’t arrived, Lucius would have killed Ginny,” Hermione pointed out annoyed.

Sirius nodded.

“That’s what you said, and not so kindly” he explained with a smile. “You were furious. So Harry faced the criticism and left with Moody to Transylvania for six months, found the last Horcrux, destroyed it, and came back.”

Hermione tilted her head to the side and looked at him as if trying to calculate something.

“And what happened between you and me in the meantime?” she asked.

Sirius leaned back on the chair and stared pointedly at her, detecting the tons of implicit flirtation in the question.

“Have you seen what happened seconds before Bellatrix sent us an _Avada_ in the woods, next to Malfoy Manor?” he asked with a seemingly innocent expression.

“Y-yes” Hermione answered, red as a beetroot.

Sirius put on one of the legendary marauders’ smiles, capable of melting the whole Antarctic in thirty seconds, and leaned towards her.

“Then you don’t really need more details, do you?” he replied.

Hermione burrowed into the armchair, feeling shy and with her heart running at a hundred per hour, and shook her head.

“What… what are all of those papers you have on the desk?” she asked, half of her head wishing to change the subject and the other half wishing that Sirius would give her all of those details of which he spoke of, and in a graphic way, if possible.

“Reports” he answered, leaning back again on the armchair and allowing the change of subject. “From the Aurors that check on all the former Death Eaters that aren’t dead or in Azkaban. We don’t know who helped the Malfoys escape, but surely they had help from outside”.

“And you think that they…” Hermione began.

“We don’t know anything” Sirius dismissed with a gesture; “but it would make sense that they were the ones that helped the Malfoys. Who knows… maybe they think that they could be a good substitute for Voldemort, now that he’s pushing up daisies, but I think their motives are more in the lines of a desire for revenge. All the same, we have to keep a close eye on them for a while, to see what they are up to now.”

Hermione nodded her head, her mind once again lost in the Pensieve. She couldn’t stop thinking about Harry. She didn’t remember him like that. Harry had always been tender and caring with her, like someone really in love. Her head was a mess.

“Sirius… about what you saw in the Burrow…” she started, doubting. She wanted to apologise to him but didn’t know how to address the subject.

The Animagus got up lazily and got close to the fire. The orange light coming out from the flames illuminated his face without shadows and gave his skin a golden tone. Hermione studied him in silence, overwhelmed by the incredible allure of his elegant movements, and at that moment she understood something that disgusted her: her, that had always put feelings before more primal emotions, deeply desired that man. So many years cultivating mind and soul, and in the end, her hormones betrayed her as if she were a teenager with acne, making her feel brutally attracted to the biggest Casanova in the Marauders. _Hermione_ −she thought− _you’re in love with Harry, remember?_

Sirius had set his eyes on her, while hers seemed lost on a point somewhere in the wall in front of her. When their eyes met, she blushed slightly and paid him attention.

“Hermione, I’ve been thinking about that, and I think I don’t have any right to be mad at you” he admitted ruefully. “You are not to blame for finding yourself married to a man who you barely know and that you obviously don’t love. However, you find Harry, who you do love, and who is alive and returns your feelings. I’m afraid that if I were in your position, my feelings would remain the same, so I can’t reproach you anything. You must do what you wish, and I think I have no right to put myself in between the both of you.”

Hermione listened to him slack-jawed. Please, he couldn’t be so… noble… so… generous, with her” she felt horrible.

“Sirius, all of that is fine and everything, but I am still your wife, so while I don’t decide what I’m going with our marriage, I think that the right thing to do is that my relationship with Harry remains… platonic, so to say,” she declared firmly.

Sirius let out a laugh.

“Definitely, you’re the same Hermione as ever,” he stated in affectionate voice. “There will always be a Prefect in you.”

She blushed and tensed. She didn’t know how to take his teasing. Sirius registered that and crouched in front of her, taking her hands in his. Hermione knew her pulse was running like a mad Hippogriff and that her cheeks were as red as a traffic light, but the Animagus gave no sign of noticing.

“I really appreciate that you take me into consideration, in the middle of all this chaos, but you have to follow that heart you have somewhere stuck in your cranium,” he joked. “I’ll support you no matter what, you have my word.”

Hermione nodded. She managed to mumble a goodnight while she kind of stumbled out of the office, feeling her skin burn from her hairline to the little cleavage that glimpsed through her chaste pyjamas. He saw her leave, visibly confused, and when she was out of his sight he let himself fall on one of the armchairs. His lips involuntarily curved into a malicious smile.

Sirius wasn’t an idiot and, above all, he was a man with an undeniable experience in all senses. The signs were obvious: he had seen those looks millions of times in other women through all his life. Hermione felt attracted to him. He didn’t see any feelings beyond desire, but Hermione still was, after all, the same Hermione who had become his wife. And he knew that she only felt sexually attracted o someone if there was a deeper feeling beyond lust.

He knew Hermione had been in love with Harry, and that she was still in love with him, although not with the Auror, but with the idealized image of him that had remained etched in her memory. He also knew that this Hermione disapproved of the grumpy and frustrated behaviour Sirius had had during the time they had shared a roof in Grimmauld Place (she used to look at him with frowned lips and an expression that was very ‘McGonagall’). But… hah! Things had changed a lot since then. Sirius had gained in serenity and maturity, and Hermione was no longer the stuck-up know-it-all she was in school. Now, she was a woman. One with hormones, fortunately for Sirius.

Sirius was deeply in love with her, more than he could have ever thought. When Hermione had travelled to the past with the temporary Time-Turner, she had left him frankly impressed. He had seen her so strong, decided and at the same time vulnerable… a totally explosive combination to Sirius Black, the more emblematic of the Marauders. There was a reason he had tenderly kept her hair-tie all that time.

As the years went by, he was an exceptional witness of how a little bookworm transformed into a very delightful woman. When she was put under his charge as an Auror in training, that initial dazzle had turned into more intense emotions. She was stubborn, headstrong, hardworking and serious, but at the same time tender and funny. After all the teasing he had submitted Lupin to about Tonks, and he went and fell fulminated by Cupid as if he were a preschooler.

Sirius had it very clear what he wanted from Hermione: that she fell in love with him once more. If there was no luck and she decided to go on with Harry… well, tough luck. He loved her enough to not pressure her and get out of her way, he was showing her that. But, deep inside, he was convinced that no one loved her and understood her as much as him. Sirius basically wanted Hermione to be happy.

And he was determined to achieve that.

 

* * *

 

 

On Monday, Mad-Eye had decided to begin the fieldwork personally checking, in pairs, on some of the former Death Eaters that remained on the loose, and had divided them into groups of two. Tonks was with Shacklebolt (checking on Crabbe), Hermione was with Harry (Pansy Parkinson) and Sirius was with Cordelia (Goyle). Sirius hadn’t even raised an eyebrow at that new distribution but had suspected the motives. When he was left alone with Moody, he decided to make sure of it.

“Alastor…” he began.

“In these moments, I think it’s better that you don’t go with Hermione, son…” the Auror cut him, his magical eye fixed on Sirius as if it wanted to practice a skull x-ray.

“Since when has my work been compromised by…?”

“Never,” Moody cut him again. “But until things aren’t clear between you two, that can interfere with your state of…”

“Constant vigilance, yes, sure…” Sirius cut him this time. “Well, allow me to congratulate you because Harry is in love with Hermione to the gills and Cordelia won’t let pass an opportunity of trying seduction manoeuvres on me while spending the whole day together.”

Mad-Eye stared fixedly at him with his good eye, while the magical one spun like a peg-top. It looked as if he was suddenly suffering from terrible gastritis.

“Dammit! Why am I always the last one to find out about these things? Aren’t you all old enough for this?” he roared.

“It seems that we’re not…” Sirius sighed.

 

* * *

 

 

“C’mon, Hermione, shoot! We don’t have much time.”

The brightest witch to have ever set foot on Hogwarts brushed the crumbs from the edge of her mouth and shot Tonks an annoyed look.

“I told you nothing’s wrong with me, you nag.”

“Sure, and I’ve fallen madly in love with Alastor Moody.”

“Congratulations, and I hope you have many, many children.”

Tonks scoffed in desperation. They had already spent forty-five minutes of their lunch hour, and Hermione refused to spill anything. She had been in a surly mood for several days, and that could only be for three reasons: Sirius, Sirius and Sirius.

“Since Monday there’s not a single person on this Earth that can stand you, Hermione,” the Metamorphmagus accused. Her hair was short and wavy for the occasion, in a surprisingly sober brown tone.

“Look who’s speaking…”

They were eating in a cafeteria close to the Ministry. It was Friday; they had just handed in their reports to Moody and were making use of their free time to fill their stomachs. Tonks was on duty Friday night and Remus on Saturday. Hermione coincided with Sirius on Sunday, each of them hot on the heels of their favourite former Death Eater.

“I don’t know why Alastor hasn’t put Remus and I together,” Tonks complained with a pout. “If we know each other so well we don’t even need to speak… when I’m on a mission with him everything is so much simpler. And also, Kingsley isn’t nearly as fun, always so focused… I get a lot more bored.”

“Yes, I suppose Alastor hasn’t put much attention to detail, with all of this,” Hermione sighed. “My constant vigilance has gone down the drain, with me being with Sirius and with Harry all the time…”

The Metamorphmagus leapt in her chair and pointed an accusing finger towards Hermione.

“HAH! You admit something, at last…”

Hogwarts’ most intelligent witch and, according to Boris, the wizarding world’s least stylish one, sighed again.

“I’m a complete mess…”

Tonks calmed down and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. Hermione looked at her and smiled with resignation.

“I’m starting to feel… a little bit confused about Sirius,” she confessed. “I… I was in love with someone else, but now I’m starting to doubt how I feel… and sometimes I find myself a little uncomfortable around Sirius.”

“Uncomfortable?” Tonks asked with an innocent expression, knowing that discomfort wasn’t precisely the only thing Hermione was feeling. She had complete trust in how irresistible Sirius could be when he put his mind to it.

“He… attracts me, sometimes,” Hermione admitted. “He behaves in an impeccable way towards me, like an authentic gentleman. He really makes my life easier, without pressuring me… and I feel very grateful for that.”

“And the fact that he’s so hot that you could eat him doesn’t have anything to do with that, right?” Tonks asked after taking a sip of her Butterbeer.

“Tonks!”

The Metamorphmagus rolled her eyes.

“Hermione, please, tell me that you have never noticed that body created for lust…”

Her friend’s blush served as an answer.

“You’re a lost cause,” Tonks sentenced. “Once a woman falls under a Marauder’s charm, there’s no escape. Trust me, every time Remus gives me one of his looks, I can’t say no to anything…”

“To anything… anything?” Hermione asked her with a suggestive gesture.

It was Tonks’ turn to turn as red as a beetroot.

“Hermione! You spend too much time with Sirius…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, there! Another almost two-month wait, huh? You guys are really the best if you're still following this despite my awful updating schedule. Have I told you I love you before? If not, then know that I do. Every little comment or kudos notification from you all makes me happier than you can ever imagine.  
> Thoughts on the chapter? Certainly not as exciting as last one, right? But still, there's progress and a long-awaited explanation from Sirius (He kept the hair-tie all this time, guys!!! *feels*). More about the differences between the Harry Hermione remembers and the one she's found again, and the slow realisation that they may not be the exact same person she remembers. Also, there's a glimpse of how Hermione's feelings towards Sirius are slowly shifting, even if only on the physical side (and the neverending teasing from Tonks. She's like the ultimate shipper, let's be honest).  
> Well, that's all for today, guys. I really hope you enjoy the chapter and can't wait to read all your thoughts and ideas of what may happen after this. I'll try to finish the next chapter as soon as possible.  
> Until next time, lovelies!


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